Clouds Between Their Knees
by TheFirstMrsHummel
Summary: Kurt and Dave are left stranded in the woods after a deadly plane crash en route to Nationals. Rated M for language, physical trauma/pain, and eventual Kurtofsky smut!
1. Chapter 1

_**So, this is the most AU thing I've ever written. I was inspired by several great stories I've enjoyed recently that are really outside of the box, featuring zombies, past lives or post-apocalyptic worlds, to name just a few. This isn't quite as far-reaching as that, but since I so often try to stick to stuff you'd see on the show in my writing, I thought this might be a nice way to spread my wings during the hiatus. **_

_**And because it' so AU from the show, that means my muse is ready to write Kurtofsky smut again! Eff yeah, y'all! It's rated M for a reason. XD Oh, and the title is from Five For Fighting's "Superman (It's Not Easy)" song.**_

This just could not be happening. There was no way that Kurt Hummel was being denied boarding on the plane to New York City, the plane that was supposed to be taking him and the rest of New Directions to Nationals. Somehow - and he had every reason to suspect that Sue Sylvester was heavily involved - his name had been put on the no-fly list. Mr. Schuester tried to reason with the security team, to no avail. They even admitted that it could have been some sort of clerical error, but in this day and age of flying, there was no way they could risk letting Kurt on the plane. They told him he was welcome to come back the next day with his father and scores of documentation to get his status reversed, but was warned it could take days to get through the red tape. Which pretty much sucked, because this was Thursday evening, and the Nationals competition was taking place first thing Saturday morning.

But what sucked most of all was that Kurt wasn't the only one who'd been set up. He figured the glee club could do okay missing one member, even if it was someone as amazing as himself. But while going through security, the newest member of New Directions' carry-on bag set off the metal detectors like crazy. When the bag was opened, it was found to contain a Swiss army knife, a can of lighter fluid, and written directions on how to make a pipe bomb out of common household items. "None of that shit is mine, I swear it!" Dave Karofsky yelled at the top of his lungs, as he was marched off to the security office. With two members down, McKinley's glee club might be disqualified before they ever got to sing a note. But Kurt had urged them to go ahead anyway and at least try, assuring everyone that both he and Dave's dads were on their way to the Dayton airport to get their sons back to Lima. Hopefully without either boy winding up in juvenile detention.

Kurt and Dave sat awkwardly next to each other in the security office while waiting to be collected. Over the past three months, they had maintained a civility that Kurt at one point would have thought impossible. He still wasn't completely sure what had happened; all he knew was that upon returning to McKinley High after his family ran out of money to continue sending him to Dalton, he found a very changed David Karofsky. His former bully apologized to him for his previous behavior, and promised that he had no intention of attacking Kurt either physically or verbally ever again. He had apparently also apologized to the entire glee club days before, Will Schuester's hand on his shoulder the entire time, and asked if he might be given the chance to become a member after all. And most shockingly, Kurt came back to public school to find that he was no longer the only out student enrolled there. Even though there had been no drama - no hidden camera footage, or personal discovery of a secret boy-on-boy rendezvous, or anything - word had simply gotten around the school that Dave was totally gay, and Dave had not denied it. It was such an anti-climax, Kurt was still trying to wrap his mind around it all this time later.

It was really, _really_ weird to sit in the choir room with Dave, and listen to him offer the occasional quiet opinion about this song or that. Or to see him fulfill his weekly glee assignments as a soloist, or once with Santana, as a duet. Their performance of Anything _You Can Do, I Can Do Better_ was pretty epic, Kurt had to admit. But honestly, performing with Dave was the weirdest thing of all. It was just something he'd never even conceived possible, and whenever he caught Dave out of the corner of his eye, wearing a matching/coordinating shirt and projecting his surprisingly rich baritone voice to the audience, it was just so surreal.

"It was Sylvester, you know, "said Dave in a tired, defeated voice. "I didn't put any of that crap in my bag."

"Well, _duh_," replied Kurt. "I'm not exactly a terrorist either." He sighed. "She pulled some strings, did something to get my name on that list. And I know she planted those things on you." He couldn't believe that Dave needed to hear him say it, but based on the larger boy's relieved expression, apparently he did. "She's always been set on destroying any chance that New Directions has for success. But us going to Nationals when the Cheerios crashed and burned after Quinn, Brittany and Santana quit? I think it pushed her over the edge. This is crazy, Dave."

Dave's eyes met Kurt's briefly, then looked away. It was a fairly common and uncomfortable occurrence between the two of them. But what happened next was definitely not. Kurt could almost literally see a lightbulb come on over Dave's head, and his mouth opened slightly. "Usually, you say someone's crazy, not stupid." He turned to face Kurt, this time his gaze unwavering. "But she's both. Crazy and stupid."

"She's stupid why?" asked Kurt, totally confused.

"Because she didn't do her research. She didn't learn one very important fact about one of the kids she stopped from getting on that plane."

"Which is?" Kurt looked questioningly at Dave, because he was pretty sure he wasn't talking about him.

"The fact that my uncle is a small aircraft pilot." The corners of Dave's lips curled up in a completely satisfied and not at all unattractive smile.

"What?" said Kurt, not sure he was hearing correctly.

"My uncle Donald. He flies a twin engine commuter plane out of Lima." Dave looked eagerly at Kurt. "I can talk to my dad on the way home. Uncle Don might be able to fly us to New York tomorrow! We could be there in plenty of time, even get a rehearsal in."

"Are you serious?" Unthinkingly, he grasped Dave's hands in his own. "That would be amazing!" Dave looked down at their clasped hands, and Kurt self-consciously released them in an instant

Dave cleared his throat and took out his phone, handing it to Kurt. "Uh yeah," he said, "Look, give me your number, and if I can work it out, I'll text you. Just don't unpack tonight, okay?"

Kurt had agreed, punching his number into Dave's contacts list. Their dads had arrived shortly after, both extremely upset and frustrated over the boys' situation. Burt was so tense, Kurt decided not to mention Dave's Plan B to him on the drive home; his father was still not terribly trusting of Dave or his motivations, and Kurt preferred not to add any more stress than necessary onto Burt's plate. When they got to the house, Burt yanked Kurt to him in a hard and heartfelt hug before Kurt ascended the stairs to his room. "I'm so sorry, buddy," he said. "We'll get to the bottom of this, and whoever screwed up your trip to Nationals is gonna pay, I promise."

Kurt had just changed into his silky blue pajamas and was about to slip between the covers when his phone vibrated, signaling an incoming text. He tried not to be too hopeful as the thumbed the New Message icon.

_It's a go. Meet me at the Lima Allen County Airport at 5:30am tomorrow._

Kurt thought about telling his dad and Carole, but in the end decided to just leave a note. There was always the chance that they might say no since Dave was involved, and there was no way Kurt was missing a second chance to get to Nationals. So at 4:45am, Kurt snuck out of his house with his suitcase and messenger bag, and drove to the small, 2-runway Lima airport.

When he got there, he found Dave in the rapidly brightening dawn, standing next to a small plane and talking to a man that Kurt presumed to be his uncle. Kurt examined the aircraft from afar, and gulped. He'd been so excited about making it to New York City after all, he'd put the fact that he was going to be flying on a tiny little plane out of his mind completely. Kurt wasn't the best flyer; in fact, Kurt wasn't a flyer at all. The journey to Nationals was to have been Kurt's first flight ever, and he'd been nervous even thought it was to have been on a full sized commercial aircraft. But this plane was…jeeze, it was _really_ small. It looked well maintained - shiny, even, and not too old. But Kurt couldn't help the thought that went through his head the minute he laid eyes on it. _That's the kind of plane that always seems to crash with a load of singers and musicians on it. _Kurt closed his eyes for a minute, trying to get his bearings, but it turned out to be a bad idea. Pictures of the fallen flashed behind his closed lids. _Buddy Holly Richie Valens The Big Bopper Jim Croche Lynyrd Skynyrd Stevie Ray Vaughn Aaliyah-_

"Hey Kurt, you made it!" Dave's voice, practically giddy, rang out across the empty runway, thankfully interrupting Kurt's morbid train of thought. He shook off the depressing images and strode forward towards Dave and the other man. "This is Jake, one of Uncle Don's pilot friends," said Dave. At Kurt's questioning look, Dave explained. "Uncle Don has a flight scheduled at 8am. He'd never make it back in time, but I guess Jake here owed him a favor."

Jake shook Kurt's hand, quirking an eyebrow at the boy's fashionable attire - bright teal cotton pants, a slouchy soft tee with a bold black and white graphic print under a skinny black vest, all worn with matching teal canvas shoes. He certainly looked a lot different than Don's nephew, who wore plain jeans, a McKinley High t-shirt, and ratty sneakers. But Don had told him that the kids were off to some singing competition in New York City, which he imagined would be attended by a lot of…theatrical types, like this boy appeared to be. "Jake Marshall. Don covered a couple of flights for me last month when I got food poisoning. It's the worst part of being a one man operation, you know? Hard to call in sick. But he really saved my nads, and wouldn't take much more than for his expenses. So I told him I'd be happy to run you two up to the Big Apple this morning."

"We really appreciate it, sir," said Kurt, trying not to show any fear or nervousness. The plane didn't look much bigger up close, sadly.

Jake caught him eyeing his plane and smiled reassuringly. "I know she may not look like much, but she's in great shape and I've made thousands of safe flights on her. And as for me, I've been a private pilot for over 15 years."

"Sorry," said Kurt, a little embarrassed. "I've just never flown in a small plane like this before." He paused. "Actually, I've never flown at all. Other than into a dumpster or two." He saw Dave flinch, and regretted the lame joke immediately. God, why was it always so awkward between them? Kurt was pretty sure he'd gotten over a lot of what Dave had done to him, and in a group situation they managed fairly well. But the few times they had one on one contact, it seemed like he or Dave was always saying the wrong thing, at the wrong time, or in the wrong way.

"Well," said Jake, oblivious to the tension, "I'll get you both there in one piece for sure. Let's load up and we'll be on our way. You'll be in the city in time to join your classmates for breakfast." He stowed Kurt and Dave's suitcases in the back of the plane, then jumped into the cockpit. Dave and Kurt followed suit, climbing into the back and buckling in.

Both boys were quiet as Jake readied the aircraft for takeoff. Dave figured Kurt just wasn't in much of a talking mood, and rooted in his backpack for his iPod. As the plane taxied down the runway, he glanced over at Kurt for a moment, then did a double take. Kurt's slender hands were gripping the armrests of his seat so tightly, it looked like he might rip them right off. His eyes were closed and his face was deathly pale, murmuring something desperately under his breath. Dave wasn't sure making contact with Kurt was the best idea, but he didn't feel like he could just sit there and do nothing while his fellow glee club member had a panic attack right in front of him. He laid his hand gently on Kurt's wrist.

Kurt's eyes flew open, and he stared at Dave with wide green eyes clouded with fear. "Hey," said Dave, as gently as he could. It wasn't easy, because the engines were loud and he had to raise his voice quite a bit. "You okay?" Kurt shook his head slightly, the panicked look increasing as they began to lift off into the air. Dave moved his hand lower to touch Kurt's, and the smaller boy latched onto it like a lifeline. The squeezing was borderline painful, but Dave tried not to wince. "I've flown with my uncle lots of times, Kurt. This is no big deal, okay? You're going to be fine."

He watched Kurt swallow, and attempted not to stare like a damn creeper at Kurt's slender neck. Then Kurt licked his lips with a pink tongue, and Dave nearly groaned. _ I'm supposed to be reassuring him, not perving on him_, thought Dave. _Pull it together, asshole_. But being so close to Kurt, and touching him when he was vulnerable and scared? It brought back sense memories of his overwhelming crush on Kurt earlier in the year, and the depth of his passionate obsession. Unhealthy as it was for both of them, there was a heady sort of madness back then that had filled every corner of his being with fire and want. And Kurt's fear brought it all back in an instant. Dave cleared his throat, trying to get a handle on his unruly emotions, and he got his control back just as the plane hit altitude.

Kurt began to calm when he felt the movement of the plane become smooth and even. He let out a huge, shuddering breath of relief. He chuffed out an embarrassed laugh and looked down, only to see the strange sight of his hand clasped in David's. He looked back up at Dave, tugging his hand away. "Sorry about that," he said, trying for a casual tone. "Didn't mean to freak out on you so badly."

"It's no problem," said Dave, brining his hand back to his own lap. "It's not like you started screaming, or threw up or anything. Takeoffs and landings are usually the scariest parts for people who don't fly often, I guess." He shrugged his broad shoulders. "Now that we're at altitude, it should be a piece of cake until we get to New York." He lifted his abandoned iPod off of his lap and plugged the earbuds in. Kurt watched him mouthing the lyrics to "Loser Like Me", which the New Directions were reprising at Nationals. After a minute or so, he was surprised to find himself quite sleepy, and turned to face forward. The adrenaline of his panic attack had left him worn out, and he hadn't gotten much sleep at all last night. Closing his eyes, this time in relaxation, Kurt let the hum of the plane lull him into a light doze. _Maybe this flying thing wasn't so bad after all…_

Kurt wasn't sure how long he'd been out, when a loud bang woke him suddenly. The plane shuddered around him, and he turned to look at Dave. It wasn't a very comforting sight, since the bigger boy looked absolutely terrified as he stared out Kurt's window. Following his gaze, Kurt saw something that turned his blood into ice. The engine outside Kurt's window was billowing smoke, and he could hear the sputtering as it tried to catch. Finally, it went completely silent, the only sound now coming from the engine outside Dave's window. Kurt looked out the window again, this time at the ground, and saw nothing but a wide expanse of trees. He also noticed that the ground was getting awfully close, awfully fast.

Confirming this, they heard Jake shouting from the cockpit. "We're going down! Get into crash position! I can set her down with one engine, but there's no fucking place to _land_!"

Kurt felt a hand on the back of his neck, forcing his head between his knees. One down there, he turned his head to see the teary gaze of Dave's hazel eyes. Dave was saying something, but it was so loud, he couldn't hear. Giving up, Dave reached out and grabbed Kurt's hand, clutching it as tightly as Kurt has done to Dave's earlier. Holding hands, both boys turned their heads to the floor and waited for whatever was going to happen to happen. Kurt felt the plane yawl crazily to one side, and only had a moment to think _No not yet I'm not ready to die_ before everything went black.

_**Soooo…what do we think so far? Remember, reviews make my muse put out like the literary slut she is. XD**_

_**Oh, and BTW - I do realize that they could have driven to NYC and made it in time for Regionals. But you can't have a plane crash survival fic without a plane, so you'll have to suspend a little disbelief on that one. ;)**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**So, like wow, you guys really like this story so far, huh? XD Seriously, though, your reviews are amazing and make me want to keep writing more and more! Thank you all so much for your lovely words and encouragement.**_

_**The main warning for this chapter and the next is for those who are squeamish about blood and other physical trauma. The plane went down, and AU or not, I gotta deal with the aftermath somewhat realistically. So if that sort of thing grosses you out, you might want to skip over those parts. Oh, and I don't know a whole heck of a lot about plane crashes, so a lot of this is probably way off base, and written entirely for plot purposes.**_

Rising to consciousness was, for Kurt, like making his way through wet, black cobwebs. He fought his way through them towards the light of consciousness, even though a silent voice urged him to stay in the dark where it was safe. Giving that voice the metaphorical finger, Kurt slowly cracked his eyes open to see where he was and what had happened to him.

Everything was upside down. The unexpected sight shot him directly to total awareness. The next thing he noticed was that he felt a lot of pressure in his head and ears, and that he had a pretty nasty headache on top of it. He looked down (or up, rather) and realized he was hanging from the ceiling, held in by some kind of harness. Where was he, again? He tried to think, and it all came back to him in a rush. _Oh my God the plane crashed oh shit oh SHIT_! He took some deep breaths and tried to calm down, promising himself a total mental breakdown later. He tried to look around the plane, but was hindered by the awkward angle and the tightness of the seatbelt holding all of his weight. "Dave?" he said, shocked at how weak his voice sounded. He tried for more volume. "Dave! Jake!" Nothing. "Is there anyone here?" he cried, his voice breaking a little on the _here_. There was nothing but more silence.

_Okay, okay_, he thought. _You're alone for now. But you can do this. First things first, let's get right side up before you pop a blood vessel._ He fumbled for the latch of the seatbelt with shaking hands, getting it open on his fourth try. He realized a little late that he probably should have been hanging on to the seat or seatbelt; he fell the short distance to the ceiling of the plane in a painful heap. It wasn't until he landed that he realized how sore his entire body was, and he groaned loudly when he hit. He took a moment to get his bearings, and then sat up.

He examined himself quickly, moving his arms and legs and making sure everything seemed to be more or less in working order. He still had a bitch of a headache, but he could see, hear, and move all of his limbs. He didn't believe in God, but in that moment he understood why some people did. That he had come through a plane crash with so little injury sure seemed like what a lot of people would call a miracle. Once he was convinced he was mostly okay, he looked over to where Dave had been sitting at the time of the crash. What he saw sent his heart into his stomach.

There was a giant hole on Dave's side of the plane. Screw that, there was no Dave's side of the plane at _all _anymore. It had been sheared off by the impact completely. And Dave? Dave was…gone. And so was his seat. Kurt's horror rose when he realized that Dave's seat had most likely been ripped out of the floor, and at some point, flung out of the aircraft completely. With Dave still strapped to it. A sob caught in his throat. Oh shit, oh _fuck_, Dave was _dead_. He had to be. Kurt felt the hysteria rising up in him like a hot bubble, and barely forced it down. _Don't think about it_, he told himself. _Just look for Jake, you can think about Dave later. But not now, or you'll lose it completely. You can lose it later, Kurt._

Gasping, he turned towards the cockpit and crawled towards it. He could see the glow of sunlight through the thin curtain, but it looked rather orange to him. _Sunset?_ he wondered. _How long was I out? _He batted the thin curtain aside and looked inside the cockpit, illuminated though the broken windshield with what was most definitely the beginnings of sunset.

Unfortunately for Kurt, light wasn't the only thing going through the windshield. At first, he didn't even recognize what he was seeing; it was like his mind just couldn't accept or make sense of it. But as he stared at the blood covered instrument panel, reality set in gradually. The pilot was halfway through the windshield, so Kurt could only see the lower part of the man's body. Jake was…gored, was the only word Kurt's frozen mind could come up with. His flesh had been shredded by jagged metal and glass, and his ragged clothes were saturated in dark, brownish-red blood. Kurt noticed something shiny on the instrument panel, and felt the scream climbing up his throat when he recognized it as a loop of Jake's intestines, hanging from his torn abdomen. The scream was cut off mid-way by the rise of Kurt's gorge, and he turned away to vomit helplessly. Since he hadn't eaten since the night before, there wasn't much to come up, and he was wracked with dry heaves for several minutes. When he thought he might be able to move again, he wiped his mouth and eyes, and crawled back out of the cockpit.

Kurt wanted so badly to curl up and just lay there in the plane, but a little voice told him he had to get moving. It was going to be dark soon, and the wreckage wasn't going to be much of a shelter with one whole side of the aircraft missing. The voice sounded a lot like his dad's, and he latched on to that. Burt was always so calm, and practical. And even though his dad always said he wasn't smart, it wasn't at all true. True, his dad may not have known much about Broadway musicals, or literature, or how to speak French. But he was smart about the really important stuff; like how to change a tire in less than three minutes on a dark and rainy road shoulder, or fix the furnace when it conked out on a frigid winter day before the house got too cold. And how to make his son feel loved and good about himself, even though Kurt wasn't at all the son Burt had expected when became a father. If there was _anyone_ you'd want by your side in a disaster situation, it was Burt Hummel. He'd listen to his dad, and he'd tell Kurt just what to do.

_You still got your phone on you, kiddo?_ Burt asked. Kurt reached into his back pocket, which fortuitously had a button closure, and retrieved his phone. It was on and appeared to be working, so he dialed 911 and hit send. Almost immediately, a message popped up that there was no signal. Kurt began to despair, but his dad spoke again. _You're out in the middle of nowhere right now, probably. But you won't be for too long, Kurt, so you'd better turn it off to conserve the battery, for when you __**can**__ get a signal. _ Kurt turned off the phone and stuck it back in his pocket, re-fastening the button so it wouldn't fall out. _Now_, said his dad,_ you need to get off this plane, and get a good look at your surroundings before it gets too dark. But see if you can find your messenger bag, son. I think there's some stuff in there you might want._

Kurt did find his bag amongst the debris, and opened it to find the items he was pretty sure his dad was referring to. Two small bottles of water and a Clif Energy Bar. He emptied the leather bag of everything else; he doubted he'd need his hairspray or iPod for whatever lay in store for him. It occurred to him that he should see if his suitcase was still intact, as some extra clothes would be a good thing. He didn't know where he was, but anywhere between Ohio and New York was going to still be cold at night, even in mid-May. He exited the plane gingerly out of the ripped off side, making sure he wasn't stepping on anything sharp or dangerous. Luckily, the hold was on the opposite side of the plane, and Kurt was amazed to see both he and Dave's suitcases sitting there perfectly fine when he yanked the compartment door open. He looked at Dave's plain black suitcase next to his Louis Vutton steamer-style one and shuddered. He grabbed his, leaving Dave's where it was. He thought about how unfair it was that Dave's bag was safe when its owner was…_Don't think about it right now, Kurt, _said his dad's voice._ You've got to take care of yourself. You can do it, son; I believe in you._

Kurt brought his suitcase away from the plane and started going through it. He hadn't brought too much since it was only a three day trip, and there was only so much he was going to be able to carry in his messenger bag. He took out the socks and underwear that he'd packed, along with his toothbrush and travel sized toothpaste. He hadn't packed too much in the way of warm clothes for a late spring trip to New York, but his robe was in there, and he figured it would make a good blanket. He'd brought along his favorite Doc Martin boots, and traded his teal canvas slides out for the sturdier footwear. He couldn't help the tear slipping out of his eye when he ruffled past his Nationals costume; he was supposed to be rehearsing next to Rachel and Mercedes in the burgundy shirt and black chinos right now. As was Dave. But Dave was…_Stop it, Kurt_, said his dad harshly. _That's not going to get you anywhere. Pack this stuff up and start getting a feel for where you are, and where you're going to spend the night_.

Bag finally packed, Kurt stood up and walked clear of the plane. _Where am I?_ he asked himself. He looked around and saw nothing but trees, trees and more trees. _I think I'm lost in the freaking woods. All I need is a red cloak, and I'd be the perfect Little Red Riding Hood._ He barked out a half-hysterical laugh at the thought. The sun had lowered to about halfway to the horizon, and Kurt figured he had two hours, tops, before serious dusk set in. Maybe more like ninety minutes, even. He waited for his dad to tell him what to do, but he heard nothing but silence and some birds chirping. Sighing, he adjusted his messenger bag on his shoulder and started walking away from the plane. Hopefully he'd find a somewhat promising place to crash for the night, and start fresh in the morning. He'd gotten about thirty or forty feet when he heard the sound.

Kurt stopped, thinking that he must be hearing things. But the sound came again, and it wasn't a bird or any other nature sound. It was the sound of another human being, moaning ever so slightly. It sure as hell wasn't Jake, not after what Kurt had seen in the cockpit. "D…" he started, faltering. "D…Dave? Is that you? Can you hear me?" he called.

At first there was nothing, but then Kurt heard a response. "Kurt?" came a faint yell.

Kurt started circling wildly, trying to track down the source of the noise. "Dave!" he cried. "It's me, Dave! Keep calling my name, so I can find you!"

"Kurt!" The voice was a little louder now, and he was getting the feeling it was coming from his right. "Kurt, I'm over here! Don't leave me!"

The voice was getting louder all the time, so Kurt was encouraged that he was heading in the right direction. "I won't! Dave, I'm going to find you! Just keep shouting, okay? I think I'm almost there!" Kurt crashed through the underbrush until he finally found what he was looking for.

Dave's seat was there, but Dave wasn't in it. The impact had apparently ripped the seatbelt right off, because about ten feet from the seat was the crumpled body of Dave Karofsky, on his stomach in the dirt. Kurt ran over to him as fast as he could, tossing his bag to the ground. He threw his arms around Dave's shoulders and gently rested his chest against Dave's back. "I'm here," he said. "I'm here, Dave. I've got you, okay?"

"Turn me over," said Dave, and Kurt could hear the tears in his voice. "I need to see you. Need to see that it's not a fucking dream, or hallucination. Turn me over, _please_."

Kurt complied, rolling the larger boy over as carefully as he could. When Dave was on his back, he opened up his eyes and looked into Kurt's disbelievingly. "Oh Jesus," he said. "This is real, right? You're alive. I'm alive. Thank fucking God," Dave said in a near sob.

It was all Kurt needed to hear. He threw himself onto Dave's broad chest, bringing his ear to Dave's heart so he could hear it beat. At the steady thumping, Kurt finally broke down into hysterical crying.

_**I decided to split this part into two chapters, because it was getting kinda long. But I'm posting them at the same time, so hopefully that'll work for you all. :)**_


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N: More graphic blood and pain ahead, just an FYI.**_

After what seemed like forever, Kurt's bawling tapered off into sniffles and hiccups. As he came back to himself, he felt Dave's hand on the back of his hair, softly stroking the short strands. It probably should have felt creepy and weird, but after what Kurt had been through, the only feeling he registered was the comfort of another human touch. Finally though, he rose up off of Dave's chest, and the hand dropped away.

Kurt looked over Dave to check his physical condition, but it didn't take long to realize that Dave hadn't gotten off nearly as lightly as Kurt. No wonder Dave had only touched him with his left hand. Because his right arm was in some _serious_ trouble. A large, wickedly sharp looking piece of metal had been driven right through the upper portion, and Dave's arm was caked with dried blood. Kurt gasped in horror, staring, and Dave followed his gaze. It was obvious that Dave was in shock and hadn't realized how badly he was injured, because he looked at his arm as if it belonged to someone else entirely. "Oh shit," he said quietly. "That looks bad."

_You bet your ass it does_, thought Kurt, but was thankfully able to filter the words before they came out of his mouth. "Does it hurt?" he asked, inanely. _What a stupid question. How could that __**not**__ hurt?_ Dave tried to move his arm, and cried out in pain. "Stop it!" said Kurt. "Don't move it; you'll make it worse!"

In less than a second, Dave's eyes went from numbly worried to completely pissed. "Worse?" he said angrily, voice rising. "How could it be worse? Our plane fucking crashed! We almost died, and my arm is all fucked up!"

Kurt felt his temper flare, even though he knew it wasn't the least bit helpful. His eyes narrowed. "Well, Karofsky," he began, referring to Dave by his last name for the first time in weeks. "I don't know, maybe we could be totally fucking dead, like Jake! That would be worse, right?"

Dave went white as a sheet, and all the anger went out of him. "Jake's dead?" he asked. Unable to find the words to describe what he'd seen, Kurt swallowed and nodded. He thought Dave might have seen the trauma in his eyes, because his voice became quiet once again. "I'm sorry, Kurt. Whatever you saw, I'm sorry you had to see it. This is all my fault." Dave paused to suck in a breath. "We should have stayed in Lima. I'm so sorry," he repeated.

Kurt reached out and covered Dave's mouth with his palm. "Don't," Kurt said. If Dave said one more word, Kurt knew he was going to lose it again, and there just wasn't time for that. "This isn't your fault. You didn't make me come with you, and you didn't make the plane go down. We got into the mess together, and we're going to get out of it the same way." He paused and thought of what his dad would say again. "But we're not going to make it if we sit around crying, and wallowing in woulda-coulda-shoulda. We don't have long until dark, and we have to try and make or find some kind of shelter. Maybe try to get a fire going too, though I've got no idea how to go about that. I was never a Boy Scout, needless to say."

Dave looked at Kurt, amazed at how calm and in control he seemed, now that the crying jag was over. He took Kurt's hand off his mouth. "You seem to be doing pretty well so far, regardless." Kurt was always so high-maintenance and well…_fancy_. He would have never imagined that Kurt would have such a take-charge and proactive attitude upon being stranded in the wilderness with little but the clothes on his back. But he guessed it just went to show how in a crisis, a person could rise above all the petty crap and make it work. He knew he had to do the same; Kurt was right, their only chance of getting through this alive was by working together and being rational as possible.

Dave saw Kurt frowning at his arm, and turned to look at it himself. Now that the shock had worn off, he could feel the pain radiating through his entire arm and into his shoulder and chest. It was tolerable when he was perfectly still, but moving it was torture. He sighed. "We need to get that out, I think," he said. I can't really move around with it in there." He paused, and Kurt met his eyes. "You're going to have to pull it out of there." At Kurt's aghast expression, he continued. "It's going to hurt like hell, and it'll start bleeding again for sure. Probably a lot. But we have to do it, or I'm not going anywhere."

Kurt started breathing rapidly, staring at Dave's injury. He was a singer and dancer, not a doctor. He'd hardly ever even put a band-aid on another person before, let alone removed an enormous foreign object from someone's body and then dealt with the aftercare. He could see that the blood had clotted around the metal; removing it would open everything up again. What if Dave bled to death? What if he pulled at the wrong angle or with too much force, and cut Dave's arm right off? What if…oh God, what if he accidentally killed Dave in the process somehow?

"Kurt?" asked Dave. "You with me?"

His quiet voice brought Kurt's panic down a notch. He took a deep breath. "Yeah, I'm okay. Got a little freaked out there for a minute. We should think about what we'll need, because we have to do this fast. Once the sun goes down completely, it'll be pitch dark, and we can't do it then." He thought for a moment. "I'll go back to the plane and bring back our suitcases. We can use the extra clothes as bandages." He moved over to Dave's arm to closely inspect the wound. He shuddered a little as he saw how much dirt was caked into the blood around it. "And I've got two small bottles of water. We can use one to try to clean it up before I wrap it."

"No," said Dave, surprising Kurt. "We need that water to drink. Who knows when or if we can find more? A lot of people who get stranded, Kurt, they die from dehydration more than anything else. We can't waste a drop."

"It's not a _waste_, Dave," replied Kurt. "This wound is filthy. It's a total breeding ground for bacteria and infection. If it gets infected, you could die from that just as easily. We might or might not find more water," he argued, "but we're definitely not going to run across any antibiotics."

"Dehydration kills faster than infection. It would take a while for it to get bad enough that I'd die from it. It would give us more time for a rescue team to find us," Dave said stubbornly.

Kurt threw up his hands in frustration. "This isn't up for debate, Dave! You haven't given me a good enough reason to even _consider_ wrapping a huge cut packed with dirt and God only knows what else still in there!"

"Well how about this?" Dave shouted back. "Dehydration will kill us both, but the infection will only kill me!" His voice rang out, the last word echoing back to them.

Kurt looked at Dave seriously. "Is that what this is about?" he said. Dave looked away, unable to meet his eyes, which kind of said it all. Kurt laid his hand on the forearm of Dave's injured arm. "I told you, Dave. We got into this together, and we're coming out of this together. I don't want you to die, and leave me here to do this myself. I don't think I _can_ do it by myself." Dave looked back up at Kurt, his eyes glazed over with tears. "I'll just wind up dying too, all alone in the middle of nowhere. And I don't think either of us wants that, right? So please, _please_ let me use one of the waters for your arm, okay?"

After a moment, Dave relented. "Okay. You can use one. Just, if it looks like you don't have to use the whole thing, try to save a little."

Kurt nodded, glad that that the matter was settled. He stood up, automatically brushing the dirt off the knees of his pants. "I'm going back to get the suitcases. I'll be right back."

"Wait," said Dave, suddenly.

Kurt looked at him questioningly. Dave seemed to be having a hard time saying what he wanted to say, and Kurt huffed impatiently. They didn't have time to dork around with their usual uncomfortable dance. "What? Make it fast, we don't have a whole lot of time here."

"It's just…Jake. He was a smoker. He had a cigarette while we were waiting for you to get to the airport." Kurt stared at him, wondering what in the hell that had to do with anything. "He had a lighter, Kurt. We could use it to make a fire, y'know?"

At first, Kurt felt a hot rush of joy at the news. They could have a fire and not freeze their asses off overnight. But then he considered what he'd have to do to get the lighter, and understood Dave's initial hesitation. Most likely, the lighter was in Jake's pocket. And Jake was… Kurt paled.

"It's okay," said Dave. "If you can't, you can't. I just thought I should mention it, since you're going back to the plane and all."

Kurt tried to shake off the disgust and fear. "I can," he said, straightening his shoulders. "I have to, because we don't have any choice. We won't freeze to death this time of year, but spending the night in the cold when we don't have to isn't going to be good for either of us." _Especially you. Because I have a feeling you're going to be in a world of hurt after I yank that thing out of you. _"I'm glad you said something, Dave. I'll be back in a little bit, okay?" And with that, Kurt headed off to the wreckage.

He wasn't gone too long, thankfully. After about twenty minutes, Kurt returned, white as a ghost and carrying both suitcases. He started unloading the clothes from both of them silently. "Are you okay?" asked Dave. Kurt nodded once sharply, not even looking at Dave. But he shoved his hand in his front pocket and took out the Zippo lighter Dave had remembered Jake using, tossing it onto the ground. Kurt then reached into his suitcase and took out a pink plastic box with a latch. "What's that?" Dave asked.

"It's a sewing kit," replied Kurt tonelessly. He retrieved a pair of small scissors from the small box and started cutting the clothes into strips. "I always bring one to competitions. People are always losing a button or tearing a seam right before we go on, it never fails." When Kurt had a good sized pile of strips, he stashed the scissors away and turned to Dave. His face, usually so beautifully emotional, was as blank as Dave had ever seen it. Kurt cast an eye to the sky above the trees, which had turned from orange to a light purple. "We need to do this now, if we're going to. It'll be dark soon. I wanted to build the fire first, but there's no time." He looked back at Dave.

Dave swallowed, and took a deep breath. "Okay, let's do this, then," he said. He knew this was going to be almost as hard for Kurt as it was going to be for him. While Kurt was gone, he had pondered what would have happened if their positions were reversed. Dave wasn't sure he could have gone through with causing Kurt the kind of pain he knew the removal was going to involve. He was amazed once again and Kurt's utter strength and fortitude. _Not that you should be. He had to have been strong to deal with all the bullying. All the shit everyone - but mostly you - put him through before he transferred. He's always been stronger than you could __**ever **__be._

Kurt walked on his knees over to Dave's right side, the bundle of makeshift bandages, one of the water bottles, and an intact sweatshirt of Dave's in his hands. He placed the bandages on Dave's stomach, keeping them out of the dirt, set the water aside, and pushed his hands into the sweatshirt sleeves. Hands protected from the sharp edges of the metal, he reached for the shard of metal and stopped just short of touching it. He looked at Dave, his face no longer blank, but worried. Dave noticed sheen of sweat on his smooth brow. "Are…are you ready, Dave?" asked Kurt, failing to keep the trembling out of his voice entirely.

He had to be as brave as Kurt. He schooled every note of fear out of his reply. "Yes," he said firmly. "It'll be fine, Kurt. Just do it. I trust you."

Kurt closed his eyes for a minute, then opened them. Dave was overwhelmed by the empathy and sadness in his beautiful green gaze. "I'll be as quick as I can," Kurt said. "I'm so sorry to have to hurt you like this." He took a deep breath, and then grabbed the metal sticking out of the top of Dave's arm as tightly as he could. Dave cried out at the jarring sensation, pain shooting from his arm into the rest of his body. Without hesitating, Kurt began pulling upwards on the metal, terrified when it refused to budge as first. But then he pulled harder, and he felt it begin to slide out. He tried so hard to block out the noises Dave was making, but it was impossible. Dave's cries had escalated into pitiful screams, and Kurt blinked tears from his eyes at the agonized shrieking. It took less than a couple of minutes to get it out entirely, but they were the longest minutes of either boy's short lives. When it was finally out, Kurt flung it away into the underbrush with a barking sob.

Dave's face was deadly pale in the dusky light, wet with tears and sweat, and his eyes were closed. Kurt brought his hand to Dave's cheek and spoke frantically to him. "Dave? Are you okay? It's over, it's over, I swear to God it's over. Please, _please _Dave, say something!"

Dave's eyes opened, and Kurt had never been so grateful to see those hazel orbs in his life. He felt the most insane urge to plant a kiss on Dave's brow, not at all sure where the idea had sprung from. He was just so happy that the worst part was over, and Dave was still with him. Dave moaned, and Kurt turned his sights back to Dave's arm. What he saw was less than encouraging, because Dave was bleeding copiously into the dirt beneath him.

"Oh shit!" said Kurt, reaching for the bandages, and the water bottle. He dumped the water on the wound, cleaning it out as best as he could quickly. He had to get the bleeding stopped or Dave was going to be in serious trouble. He began tightly wrapping the strips of cloth he'd prepared around Dave's arm, but the blood was drenching them completely before he could even get the next layer on. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Kurt swore. Dave was getting paler, and the bandages weren't staunching the bleeding nearly as well as he'd expected. This was what he had feared, that Dave was going to bleed out before his very eyes. What was he going to do?

Looking around wildly, he saw the pink sewing kit. Maybe he could…? _Nothing to lose_, he thought, grabbing the box. It was stocked with pre-threaded needles, and he grabbed out one that looked like it had the thickest thread. He turned back to Dave, who was terrifyingly motionless. "Dave!" Kurt yelled, shaking the broad shoulders. Dave's eyes opened again, confused and almost sightless. "Dave, I'm going to stitch up your arm. I have to try and stop the bleeding. Hang on for me. Just hang on a little longer and I'll fix it, okay? Please, Dave!"

Bending over, he drew the needle through the torn flesh, trying to avoid the muscle beneath that had been flayed open. Kurt was pretty sure that under any other circumstances, he'd be throwing up or passing out from all the blood and gore, which not only was all over Dave, but himself as well. But all he could think was _save him save him oh Jesus Christ Kurt_ _save him_, and it gave him the strength to continue. He sewed as steadily and calmly as he could, as if he were working on one of his most cherished and valuable costumes for glee. As the gaping edges of the wound were brought together, Dave's body began to hold most of his blood in instead of spilling it out onto the forest floor. When he was done he tied the stitches off in a knot, relieved to see that the blood still oozing out was about a tenth of what he'd seen before. Grabbing the unused bandages, he began wrapping Dave's arm again. This time, after he'd gotten the first three layers on, the top one remained bloodless while he wrapped the fourth one on. He kept going until every single bandage was used.

Sitting back on his knees, he finally hazarded a glance at Dave. Kurt was terrified that, despite all of his efforts, Dave might have died from blood loss while he was working on him. Dave seemed to be unconscious, but his chest was rising and falling with his breathing. He gasped with relief, and heard his dad's voice again. _You did it, Kurt. You saved him. Good job, kiddo._

Kurt retrieved his robe from his messenger bag and spread it out over Dave's still form. Numbly, he traveled around the perimeter of the area, gathering sticks and some larger branches that he found. He set them into a pile, then took the novel he'd packed for the trip out of his suitcase. He ripped out and crumpled up several of the pages, and used them to try and start a fire. As dusk turned almost completely to darkness, he saw that the wood was beginning to burn, and started to feel warmth emanating from the blaze. Crawling on his hands and knees back to Dave, covered in blood and dirt and not even caring, he slipped under the robe and laid his head on Dave's firm chest. Listening to the sounds of Dave's deep breathing and steady heartbeat, he allowed himself to fall into an exhausted sleep.

_**Soooo, if I didn't scare you all off with the blood and guts, leave a review and let me know what you think!**_


	4. Chapter 4

_**Wow, I am seriously blown away by the reactions and reviews for this story. Thank you all so, so much for taking the time to write and encourage me. And special thanks to Here's Hoping and dorydafish for supplying feedback on some technical details in the last two chapters; it was greatly informative and appreciated!**_

_**Speaking of details, we're going to pretend that either Kurt's phone doesn't have GPS on it, or that it doesn't work without a signal. Damn technology makes these "lost in the woods" stories a lot harder to write realistically these days. *shakes fist at young whippersnappers with their fancy gadgets***_

_**Oh, and one last thing before we start- happy belated birthday to LizzyPoodle! Hope you like your slightly delayed prezzie! :D**_

Dave awoke to bright sunlight and the sound of birds chirping, along with a soft pressure on his chest and a tickly, sweet-smelling sensation under his nose. He opened up his eyes and looked down, only to find Kurt sleeping against his chest, the boy's silky hair brushing against his mouth and cheek. This _has got to be a dream_, thought Dave. _I'm in bed with Kurt, and his hair smells like heaven._ But then he shifted, feeling the hard ground beneath his back and the gnawing ache in his right arm, and it all came back to him. The crash. Kurt finding him when he thought for sure he'd die of dehydration and starvation in the dirt. Arguing with Kurt about the best use of their limited water. The last thing he remembered clearly was Kurt looking so sadly at him, before he started pulling on that bitchly piece of metal in his arm. After that it was pretty much a red haze of pain and fear, and he wasn't sure what exactly had gone down. He looked over at his right arm, opposite of where Kurt was resting, and saw that the shrapnel was gone. In its place was a multi-colored bandage made of both of their clothing, the more colorful strips belonging to Kurt's items of attire. He looked back at Kurt's sleeping face, awestruck. _He saved my life. Holy shit, he saved my fucking life._ Dave felt tears sting his eyes, and his left arm convulsively tightened around Kurt's slim shoulder. Moving as little as possible, he pressed his lips to the top of Kurt's head. "Thank you," he whispered.

Either the sound of his voice or his movement penetrated Kurt's slumber, because immediately the smaller boy began to stir. His hand, splayed on Dave's chest, clenched and released a couple of times, and he made the sweetest sighing noise Dave had ever heard. His cheek rubbed against Dave's chest, and Dave took his mouth off Kurt's hair, looking up at the sky and trees.

Kurt lifted his head off of Dave's chest, a little embarrassed to realize he'd drooled a damp circle on Dave's shirt. With all the mess of blood, though, it was doubtful Dave would notice. If he was even conscious, that was. He sat up, blinking in the brilliant morning light, and immediately looked down to check on Dave. His relief at seeing Dave's clear hazel eyes looking back at him was palpable, and he smiled broadly. "How are you feeling, Dave?" he asked, softly.

Dave had never seen Kurt smile so warmly and directly at him like that before, or heard him say his name like that, and it made his heart skip a beat. _Knock it off_, Dave told himself_, he's just glad you're not dead_. "Like I fell out of an airplane," he responded dryly, smirking a little at Kurt's chuff of laughter. He moved his arm, experimentally; while it hurt a lot, it was nothing compared to the white-hot agony when the metal had been embedded in it. He winced. "Honestly, though, considering everything? Not too bad. I think I want to sit up, actually."

Kurt put a hand on the back of Dave's neck and helped him into a sitting position. He kept his hand there for a few moments, just in case Dave couldn't stay up on his own, but then removed it when he appeared to be steady. He looked at the bandage, and was please to see no sign of blood. The same couldn't be said of either of their outfits, though; both he and Dave's shirts and pants were covered in stiff, dried blood. Kurt wrinkled his nose unpleasantly, pulling his graphic tee away from where it had stuck to his chest during the night. "I should see if I left any clothes uncut, so we can change. I know this isn't the time to be fussy, but I'm not sure I can stand wearing these much longer." Dave nodded in agreement, and Kurt went over to their suitcases. In his own he found the pants for his Nationals costume, and a tank style undershirt, but that was all. Dave fared a little better; he'd brought a few t-shirts with him, and Kurt had missed a couple at the bottom of the bag when pulling things out last night. He also found a pair of silky basketball shorts in McKinley red and black. It would all have to do; there was nothing else in either suitcase that hadn't been cut up. Luckily, it seemed to be unseasonably warm wherever they were. Even though you could tell by the sun it was early in the morning, Kurt thought it had to be in the 70's at least already.

"Okay, I found some things," said Kurt, turning to Dave. It suddenly hit him that in Dave's condition, it might be hard for the other boy to get undressed and dressed on his own. Looking at Dave's flushed cheeks, he could tell Dave was having the exact same thoughts. "Uh," Kurt said, "maybe we should have some water and a little to eat before we try this. You should probably have something in your stomach before you try to stand up the first time."

"You have food? Seriously?" asked Dave, momentarily distracted from the thoughts of being undressed in close proximity to an also undressed Kurt. He was so hungry, but hadn't wanted to say anything since he didn't think there was much that could be done about it.

"I have an energy bar that I brought on the plane with me," said Kurt. "But it's small, and there's just one. We'll need to try and make it last at least all of today. So just half for now, split between us, I think." He dropped the clothes he'd been holding, and rooted around in his leather bag. "And I'm sorry to say, only a few sips of water each. I know you must be so thirsty after losing all that blood, but I did use the whole first bottle last night, so we've only got the one." He walked over to Dave and sat next to him, handing him the bottle of water and ripping open the energy bar. He broke it in half, wrapped one part of it back in the wrapper, then broke the other half into two neat and equal pieces. "Hope you like raisins," Kurt said, handing Dave his portion.

"Love them," said Dave. Actually, he wasn't the biggest fan of any kind of dried fruit, but right now it sounded like the best thing ever. He wanted to shove the whole piece in his mouth, but he saw Kurt taking tiny little bites, and decided to follow suit. Maybe if he chewed a lot, he could fool his stomach into thinking he'd consumed a lot more. He opened up the small bottle of water and took a sip, and the moisture exploded on his dry tongue. It was all he could do not to gulp the whole thing down in one go, but he pulled it away from his lips and offered it to Kurt instead.

Kurt took the bottle, and Dave could tell for a moment he was thinking of wiping the top off before taking a drink himself. But Kurt just shrugged and put his mouth where Dave's had been moments before, taking the tiniest of sips. _No need to be shy about a little spit, I guess. Not when I bled all over you last night,_ Dave thought. He knew he needed to say something, even if it could never come close to really expressing how he felt about what Kurt had done for him. "Um…I just…" he stammered. Kurt looked at him, mildly curious. "Thank you. You…you totally saved my life. I mean, you found me in the first place, and then you took care of that thing in my arm. I don't remember much, but it must have been…really gross."

Surprisingly, Kurt laughed a little. "Yeah, it was pretty gross all right." He sobered, though. "And scary, too. I really thought you were going to bleed to death. Good thing I had the sewing kit."

"What?" asked Dave. "What do you mean?"

"I stitched up your wound," Kurt said, almost casually. "It was the only thing I could think of to get it to stop bleeding."

"You…" Dave trailed off, eyes wide and disbelieving. "You put stitches in my arm? In the middle of fucking nowhere? Like some kind of goddamn battlefield medic?" Kurt nodded, and Dave continued to goggle at him. Holy shit. Dave doubted that there was one frigging gigantic, macho guy on the football team who would have had the presence of mind and composure to do what this slim, effeminate boy had done. Talk about your still waters running deep. "Wow, that's…unbelieveable. I can't believe you did that."

"I'm just glad it worked." Kurt felt a little uncomfortable at Dave's near-worshipful gaze. "It could just have easily done nothing, or worse. It's not like I really had a clue what I was doing."

"Yeah, but you _tried_. I mean, a lot of people wouldn't have, they'd have just freaked out and never even thought about doing it."

"I guess."

"No, really, Kurt," Dave said, looking deeply into Kurt's eyes. "You went above and beyond. And you _saved my life_. Please, let me thank you." He looked away to hide the tears that had sprung to his eyes. "Don't shrug it off like it's nothing, okay?"

Kurt was a little overwhelmed, but put himself in Dave's shoes. If their positions were reversed, he'd have been very upset if Dave hadn't let him express his gratitude. Maybe it was a pretty big deal after all. "Hey," Kurt said, touching Dave's good shoulder. He smiled when Dave turned back and finally met his eyes again. "You're welcome, Dave." They sat there for a moment in silence, but it was a comfortable one.

After a moment, Dave spoke. "So, what's the plan? I assume you have one, seeing as how you've turned out to be the badass MacGyver type after all."

Kurt blushed. He was pretty sure it was the first time anyone had ever even thought he was a badass, let alone said it out loud. "Well, if you're up to it, we should probably move," Kurt said. "There's something to be said to sticking close to the wreckage, since that's what any rescue effort will be looking for. But unless there's a water source or better shelter close by, we might not make it long enough for them to get here. The woods seem really dense, and I don't even know how much they'd be able to see from above. If they even have an idea that we've crashed, that is."

"Jake would have had to file a flight plan," said Dave, glad to be contributing something for a change. "We didn't show, so they'll know something went wrong. But there's no way of telling how far off course we got after the engine failed. If it was a lot, we might be kinda hard to find from way down here, no matter how close to the plane we stick."

"I have my phone, and it's working" said Kurt, and Dave's eyes lit up for a moment. "But there's no signal. But if we travel a ways, we might be able to pick one up and call for help. I really think that's our best hope. But I don't want to leave it on the whole time; I'm afraid the battery will die, and then we'll really be screwed."

"Maybe we should check it twice a day. Three times, tops," Dave said. "And only after we've made some good progress."

"That sounds good," Kurt agreed. "But…I don't know how far or how fast we'll be able to go. You've been through a lot, Dave."

Dave frowned. It was all well and good that Kurt had taken care of him, but it wasn't like he was a fragile flower, for Christ's sake. Poking the last bit of energy bar into his mouth, he brushed his hands off on his dirty jeans. "No time like the present to find out, right?" he said breezily. He held out his hand to Kurt. "Help me up? We should get changed, like you said, and get going."

Kurt looked at Dave dubiously, but took his hand and pulled. With some effort, Dave made it to his feet and was pleased to see he could stand on his own. He felt a little woozy, but his pride kept him upright. "Can I have those clothes?" he asked Kurt.

Kurt walked over to the clothes and handed a t-shirt and the shorts to Dave. "Do you need help?" he asked.

"Nah, I'm good. Just get yourself set." He turned his back on Kurt and walked a few feet away.

Kurt walked a little ways away as well. He grabbed his tank and pants, along with a clean pair of underwear from his messenger bag. He stripped quickly, trying not to listen to the sound of Dave's disrobing, accompanied by gasps and cursing. He figured it would be best to get dressed fast, and be available - and clothed - to help Dave if he needed it after all. When he got the clean garments on, he felt much better, but felt very exposed on top with just a tight tank t-shirt. Kurt absolutely hated his torso and shoulders, finding them unattractively soft and fish-belly white. When he and Blaine fooled around, he would let Blaine fondle him under his shirt; but never ever let him pull it off, or even lift it above his navel. Kurt was attracted to darker, hairier and more firmly muscled men, and as such figured his own body must be quite unappealing in its opposition. He thought about Dave's extra t-shirt, and raised his voice without turning around. "Hey, Dave?" he called out.

"Yeah?" came the slightly irritated reply.

"Can I wear your other t-shirt? Just for now? I uh, don't want to get sunburned." Not that there was much chance of that in the freaking woods, but hopefully Dave wouldn't question it. "And that way we can bring it along, but won't have to carry it in the bag."

There was a pause, then Dave replied. "Sure, go ahead."

Gratefully, Kurt turned to pick up Dave's shirt from where he'd dropped it near the suitcases. He spied Dave across the way. He'd successfully gotten his jeans off and shorts on. Kurt wondered if maybe the shorts were a bit too small for Dave, as the thin fabric delineated the globes of his rear end a little _too_ clearly. Dave was obviously struggling to get his shirt on with the limited mobility of his injured arm, so Kurt quickly pulled Dave's tee over his head and started over to offer assistance. As he neared, he noticed that Dave's back was extremely smooth and broad, and shook his head a little to clear it. He wondered what was wrong with him, noticing such personal things about Dave.

"Looks like you could use some help," Kurt said to Dave's back.

"No, I'm fine," replied Dave huffily. "I just have to-" he broke off as pain shot through his arm. "Fuck!"

"Come on, Dave. You're going to rip your stitches and get that thing bleeding again," Kurt said. "Just let me help, it's no big deal."

Dave sighed heavily. After a long pause, he turned to face Kurt, holding his shirt in his good hand. One look at Kurt had him stopped dead and staring, though. Not only was Kurt wearing those tight pants for Nationals (which Kurt must have done some tailoring on, because his own pants didn't fit anything like that; it was like they'd been _sprayed_ onto Kurt's long legs), with those sexy-as-hell knee high Docs (he would never forget Kurt wearing the same ones that day in the locker room); but he was unprepared for his visceral reaction to seeing Kurt wearing one of his most favorite t-shirts. Dave had gotten it at a U2 concert in Cleveland back in 2009, and with so many washings since then, it had become soft and worn thin. Dave rarely wore it to school, especially before he came out, but it was the shirt he most often wore on the weekends vegging out at his place. It was, of course, ridiculously big on Kurt, being an extra large and all. But the shirt settled into gentle folds along Kurt's torso and arms, and the neck hole was so large that his finely boned clavicles were revealed. Dave got a mental picture of Kurt pulling the same shirt on over his naked body after a sweaty round of sex, and cursed under his breath as he started to harden. He had gotten fairly good at keeping his smuttier thoughts at bay when in close proximity to Kurt, but spending this much time with him was obviously eroding his self control. _Goddammit, stop it_, he thought. _These shorts don't leave a whole lot to the imagination, you perverted freak_. _And stop staring!_

Kurt might have been creeped out by Dave's fixation, but he was completely distracted by the sight of Dave's shirtless chest. _Oh my Gaga_, he thought. That was not the chest of a 17 year old boy. It was a man's chest, with firm pectoral muscles, a silky web of dark hair, and flat copper nipples. And his unbandaged arm was…Kurt felt his dry mouth go even dryer. Dave's bicep was huge; Kurt doubted he could have circled the circumference with even both of his hands. His breath quickened as his heart rate increased. _You have a boyfriend_, he told himself. _Stop staring!_ Blindly, Kurt stuck out his hand. "Give me your shirt," he said, and took it from Dave, careful not to touch the other boy's hand.

He tried to shift gears, and considered how best to get Dave's shirt on him. "Why don't we try this with you sitting down?" said Kurt. After Dave complied, he asked him to hold his arms straight out in front of him. Holding Dave's shirt by the hem, Kurt carefully eased his arms through the short sleeves, being especially careful with the injured one. He guessed the best way to get it the rest of the way on was from behind Dave, so he moved back there. "Duck your head, and I'll try to get it through the neck," Kurt said. He bent over at the waist to accomplish the task, and ask much as he tried to avoid it, the front of his pants bumped against the back of Dave's head a couple of times. Cheeks burning, he slipped Dave's head into the shirt and tugged it the rest of the way into place, stepping quickly away.

"Uh…thanks," said Dave, not knowing what to say. He hoped he hadn't let on at all how much he'd wanted to rub up against Kurt's zipper when it came into contact with the back of his head.

Kurt coughed. "You're welcome," he said.

The quiet that followed Kurt's reply spun out, until Dave couldn't stand the awkward silence any longer. "So, which way do you think we should head?" he asked.

Kurt was extremely grateful for something else to focus on. The sun had just risen above the tops of the trees. "Let's walk towards the sun for now, and that'll keep us going east, and not have us going in circles. We'll keep an eye on where it is in the sky and try to go in a straight line for the most part."

"Sounds good," said Dave, shifting onto his left side and attempting to push himself up with his good arm. In an instant, Kurt was at his side, gently pulling him up and supporting him he rose to his feet. When he was convinced Dave was steady, Kurt picked up his leather bag and slung it over his shoulder.

"Onwards into adventure," Kurt said dryly. He looked at Dave. "You need to tell me when you need to rest, okay? None of that macho tough-guy crap. You need to stop? Be honest about it and we'll stop. Agreed?" Dave nodded and walked up to Kurt, and the two of them set off into the woods, following the sun.

They would walk about an hour or so going at steady but not too brisk pace, then Dave would need to stop and rest a bit. On the fourth stop, they allowed themselves each two small sips of water, which was not nearly enough considering how thirsty they were, and how badly they were sweating from even the light exertion. It must have been in the mid-80's, and they could only be grateful that the trees kept the sun off of them, or it would have been a lot hotter. Both boy's shirts were damp with perspiration, though neither made a move to strip them off. As they walked, they occasionally came across some berried bushes, and once, some mushrooms; but having no idea if they were poisonous or not, they decided not to risk it. Kurt thought that at some point, if they weren't rescued, they were probably going to have to take a chance; better to die more quickly from being poisoned than slowly from starvation, he guessed. But both he and Dave were young and healthy, and he imagined they had a ways to go before having to deal with that. Of course, that was if they found water. The little bottle, no matter how conservative they were with it, wasn't going to last past tomorrow morning. And Dave was right, dehydration would likely be the first thing that would kill them. _Stop thinking about dying so much, Kurt. It's morbid, depressing, and doesn't help at all._

Dave and Kurt talked a little as they walked, but not much. Mostly they walked in companionable silence, each lost in their own thoughts. On the fifth stop, they checked Kurt's phone. They each held their breath, but then exhaled in a disappointed huff when no bars appeared on the screen. Kurt felt tears start to prick at the corners of his eyes, and told himself to stop it. He couldn't afford to lose any more moisture, and he didn't want Dave to see his weakness either. Blinking, he rose to his feet. "Okay, we'll check again before we go to sleep tonight. Let's just…try to get as far as we can." Dave had nodded, and they started off again.

They walked on, and eventually the sun was not in front of or above them, but behind Dave and Kurt. The temperature began to cool off, and a slight breeze dried their damp shirts. When an orange glow once again lit the forest, Kurt mentioned that he thought they might want to settle in for the night. They needed to get a much bigger fire going tonight; if he hadn't been so exhausted and Dave hadn't passed out, they'd have shivered all last night once Kurt's meager blaze went out.

They found a spot with a large felled tree soon after. "That tree's pretty big," said Dave. "If we could pull down some of these pine branches, we could make a little shelter. Like a lean-to." Kurt approved, tossing his bag to the ground.

The two of them first cleared a good-sized space of forest floor, sweeping leaves and twigs out of the way with their hands. Dave, with only one good arm, started collecting whatever branches he could find on the ground or within close reach. Kurt began breaking the lower branches off of several pine trees, pulling with both hands and jamming his foot against them until they came free of the trunk. As dusk fell, they layered the pine boughs on the fallen tree into a makeshift tent, and had also built a fire with plenty of extra wood left over to feed it throughout the evening.

Sitting close to the fire, Kurt tried his phone again, but there was still no signal. He stowed it back in his pocket without commenting on the fact that the battery indicator was already down one notch. Pulling the last piece of energy bar and the quarter-full water bottle out of his bag, he handed both to Dave. "Bon appetite," he said, trying for a light tone. Dave broke the last of their food in half, handing Kurt a piece that was just slightly larger than his own. They consumed their sparse dinner quietly, and took more sips of water to wash it down. They would each have two or three more sips in the morning, and then their water supply would be gone.

As Kurt looked into the fire, Dave said something unexpected. "Do you think we won?" he said.

"What?" replied Kurt.

"New Directions. I mean, it's Saturday night, and the competition's over. Do you think we won Nationals?" Dave asked.

There was no guarantee that the judges would even let their glee club perform with fewer than the required members, Kurt thought. And even if they made an exception for extenuating circumstances, Vocal Adrenaline had won the last four years, and there was no reason to expect they wouldn't again. Especially since Mr. Schuester would have had to restage quickly in he and Dave's absence, and it would have put them at a serious disadvantage. But when Kurt thought of how amazing their rehearsals had been, there was only one answer that came to his lips. "Yeah, I think we did," he said, turning to Dave. The same tears he felt in his eyes were mirrored in Dave's; unashamedly, he leaned into the bigger boy and rested his head on his broad shoulder. For a moment, Dave was still, but then his arm encircled Kurt in a comforting hug.

Pulling away, Kurt smiled bashfully and wiped his eyes. He turned back to the fire. "We should probably get some sleep," he said. "The earlier we get up, the cooler it'll be when we start walking." He stood up, went over to his bag, and pulled out his robe. Heading over to their shelter, he looked over his shoulder at Dave, who hadn't moved. "You coming?" Kurt said.

Dave was shaken out of his sadness by Kurt's words. Surely he hadn't meant for them to sound so…inviting. But Dave felt a faint arrow of want shoot into his belly at the sound of Kurt asking him to join him for the night. It was stupid under the circumstances, but he couldn't help it. "Yeah," he responded, voice a little raspy.

Kurt slid under the pine branches, and Dave joined him. At first they tried lying with back-to-back, facing away from each other; but there wasn't quite enough room for both of them under the robe/blanket that way. Finally, Dave turned away from the tree and settled his front against Kurt's back, trying to resist the temptation to spoon him completely. Feeling Kurt stiffen a bit, he had to ask. "Is this okay?"

After a moment of hesitation, Kurt replied. "Yeah, it's fine," he said, then relaxed. "Our combined body heat should help us keep warm. It might be hot during the day, but it's pretty cold at night this time of year."

Dave placed the hand of his uninjured arm at Kurt's neck, fingertips sliding slightly under. "Can I…" he asked, trailing off. Kurt didn't protest, so he slid his arm under Kurt's neck, then draped his bandaged arm over Kurt's hip. The throbbing of his injury lessened a bit from the elevation, though the throbbing in his shorts increased dramatically. He made sure that his crotch was not pressed up in any way against Kurt's ass, though everything from the chest up was plastered together pleasingly.

They both lay there silently, so tired but unable to sleep. Finally, Kurt spoke. "Will you sing something for me, Dave?" he asked.

"Really?" asked Dave, totally surprised by the request.

"I usually fall asleep listening to my iPod," Kurt fibbed. "I'm not used to trying to sleep with so much quiet." He paused, then decided to share a little truth. He and Dave had been though a lot the last couple of days, and he supposed he owed him the honesty. "Besides, I like your voice," he admitted.

"You do?"

"Well, you know…baritone. It's a very soothing register."

"I guess…"

"And yours is…really nice. Have you thought about next week's assignment yet?" Mr. Schuster had challenged them to come back from Nationals - win or lose -with "the one song that no one would expect you to sing." It could be lyrically, stylistically, or whatever; but it had to be unexpected of the individual performer.

"Yes," said Dave honestly. He knew the minute Schuester announced the assignment what he wanted to sing. He'd hoped to have the guts to follow through with it, but who knew? He'd been as vulnerable as he'd ever been in glee, but this would have taken it to a whole other level.

"Will you sing it for me now?" asked Kurt. _Because otherwise, I might not ever hear it. _He wasn't sure Dave was going to comply, right up until he heard the soft acapella vocal begin.

_Something always brings me back to you_

_It never takes too long._

_No matter what I say or do _

_I'll still feel you here 'til the moment I'm gone_

_You hold me without touch_

_You keep me without chains_

_I never wanted anything so much _

_Than to drown in your love and not feel your rain_

_Set me free…leave me be_

_I don't want to fall another moment into your gravity…_

Dave was singing Sara Bareilles, and Kurt was stunned. Yes, the big, tough jock channeling a beautifully emo girl singer-songwriter would have been very unexpected indeed. He listened to Dave's voice; how the lyrics so obviously connected with his soul, and brought his hand up to mesh with Dave's as he reached the bridge.

_I live here on my knees_

_As I try to make you see _

_That you're everything I think I need here on the ground.  
But you're neither friend nor foe_

_Though I can't seem to let you go.  
The one thing that I still know is that you're keeping me…down  
_

As the last note of Dave's warm voice trailed off, Kurt felt all of the tension and worry leave his body and mind. Under the pine branches - and warmed by a fire they'd built together, his own robe, and the heat of Dave's sturdy body curled against his - Kurt finally drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

_**Sooo…long chapter is LONG. Hope it didn't bore you too much, as there was a certain amount of getting Kurt and Dave "on the road" that I needed to do. The next installment should have more angst, action and SMUT!**_

_**As usual, please feed the muse with reviews if you can!**_


	5. Chapter 5

_**You guys are so seriously the best readers ever! I'm still so thrilled with how much people are enjoying this story. And check out the amazing fic inspired art here (remove spaces) **__**http : / / tinyurl . com / 3lsbobw and http : / / tinyurl . com / 3oebg5p **__**Thanks so much to G**__**othicthundra**__** for making them; I'm so touched and completely blown away!**_

_**Okay, this is the chapter that I looked forward to writing the most, because the UST finally becomes RST! There is a warning though if you are especially sensitive about reading a scene with an animal being killed for food. I don't want to give away too much in the A/N, but I also don't want to upset anyone who might not be expecting it. It won't be too horribly graphic, but it **__**is**__** a significant scene in the story. It's fine if you can't or don't want to read about that kind of thing, but try not to slam me for being a heartless animal-hater in the reviews. In a life or death situation like this, the boys gotta do what they gotta do.**_

Dave woke up with that sweet smelling scent in his nose again, though it was more muted than the day before. The strands of hair were just as soft, though, and he took a stolen moment to rub his cheek into them. He looked down, and realized that at some point during the night, Kurt had turned over. They were pressed together chest to chest, and Kurt's hand was resting lightly on top of Dave's bandage. As his mind began to clear from sleep, he realized something else. Kurt's leg was thrown over his hip, their crotches snugged up together. And both of them were completely hard.

Dave swallowed, and tried not to read much into it. He personally woke up with morning wood almost every day, and likely Kurt was the same. Kurt may have been…kinda girly, but physically he was still a guy, after all. It was just a natural reaction, not a sign of anything else. As much as it felt wonderful to have Kurt wrapped all around him, he figured it would be best to try and extricate himself before the other boy woke up and became embarrassed. He was just about to try and shift, to slide Kurt's leg off of him, when Kurt started moving and all of Dave's best intentions fled.

Kurt's leg tightened around his hip, and he thrust his pelvis forward with a quiet moan that went right to Dave's dick. Kurt's grip had became more firm on Dave's arm, but Dave barely felt the discomfort through the pleasure spearing through him. Kurt continued to undulate his lower half, making Dave and, from the feel of it, himself bigger and harder with every push. Kurt's head tipped upwards, and Dave felt hot breath on his neck. He didn't know what to do; part of him wanted this to last forever, but another part of him knew that sooner or later, one of them was going to come from the friction. And if waking up grinding Dave unconsciously wouldn't be mortifying enough for Kurt, he couldn't imagine how the dude would feel if there was an actual wet spot involved. But most of all, he was afraid that Kurt would think he was taking advantage of him, or even that he'd been the one to start it in the first place. He really needed to untangle himself from Kurt and just pray that the half-sleeping boy didn't realize how far things had progressed. And he was just about to put this plan into action when Kurt woke up, every part of him freezing into stillness.

Kurt had risen to awareness slowly, and from the first moment was surrounded by a delicious warmth and firmness. He sank into it, enjoying feeling something pleasurable, instead of the ceaseless worry and discomfort of the last two days. He didn't think about what the source of the pleasant feeling might be; he was still barely awake and running on pure sensation. He felt the tightness in his groin that signified a fairly common morning erection. But uncommonly, this time he had something pressed up against his hard-on. He thrust against it welcomingly, instead of reaching down with his hand to take care of the problem the usual way. It felt so amazing, and he instinctively craned his head up to kiss…wait, who was he with? He recognized the familiar feel of Dave's bandage under his hand, and in a single instant was completely awake. He froze in horror. _Oh my God, I'm dry humping Dave Karofsky_. Shame rushed through him, both for taking advantage of Dave in his sleep, and for rubbing himself against a penis that most definitely did not belong to his boyfriend. _ I won't have to wait for the elements to kill me, he thought. I think I might just die right now from embarrassment._ Dave was completely still as well, and Kurt couldn't imagine what was going through his mind, to have woken up to Kurt rutting against him shamelessly. Kurt wasn't stupid; he knew that Dave had feelings for him, though he had no idea whether they were only physical or involved his emotions. He suspected the latter, though; sometimes Blaine would come to rehearsals, and Kurt would occasionally catch Dave looking wistfully at their clasped hands, or Blaine's hand on Kurt's knee. He didn't know how he felt about Dave possibly having romantic inclinations towards him, and actually preferred not to think about it at all. But there was no getting around it now, and he'd brought that on himself.

Silently, Kurt took his leg and arm off of Dave's body, scooting back to put as much space as he could between them under the shelter. He couldn't bring himself to look Dave in the face yet, so he glanced down, which turned out to not be the best idea after all. It was dim under the pine branches, but he couldn't help but see Dave's erection - his very impressive erection - outlined against the thin nylon of his basketball shorts. _Apparently Dave tucks to the left_, he thought helplessly. Face on fire, he crawled out of the lean-to into the bright sunlight of another overly-warm morning.

Kurt sat down next to the remains of the fire, holding his head in his hands. One would think that the utter mortification would have killed his erection, but it was still going strong. Sometimes he really hated being a teenage boy, and longed for the day when he'd have more control over his unruly body. The best solution would have been to masturbate, of course, but it wasn't like he had the privacy needed for that type of thing_. I can't believe I'm stranded in the woods, in a life or death situation, and all I can think about now is how much I want to jerk off. What is my life?_

He heard rustling from behind him, and knew Dave was coming out of the shelter. _Shit_, he thought. _This is going to be so awkward. Maybe we'll __**both**__ die from it and be put out of our misery that way_. Sure enough, Dave walked over to the other side of the dead fire and sat down. Kurt looked up quickly to see Dave staring at the ground, knees drawn up to his chest, and Kurt looked back down too. They must have sat there avoiding each other's gaze for nearly five minutes, before Dave finally broke the silence.

"I'm sorry," he said. Because he was still looking down, he missed Kurt's incredulous look.

The shock of Dave's apology, at least temporarily, eased Kurt's embarrassment. It took a moment for him to find his voice. "What are you talking about?" he asked.

Dave looked up, blushing. "You know, over there." He jerked his head to the side.

"Are you crazy?" retorted Kurt. Dave looked at him, appearing confused. "You…" started Kurt, "you didn't do anything. Why would you apologize? I'm the one who, uh…" he trailed off.

Dave was relieved that Kurt didn't blame him, but Dave wasn't innocent, and he knew it. "I woke up a little while before you," he admitted. "I could have woken you up right away, stopped you. But I didn't." He sighed. "I wasn't trying to take advantage, but I was just so…surprised. But it's no excuse. I knew you didn't know what you were doing."

Kurt was starting to think he didn't understand anything about the boy he was stranded with. "Let me get this straight," he said. "While you were _sound asleep_, I turned around and draped myself all over you. Then, all on my own, I started _frottaging_ you, like a sex offender on a New York subway. And somehow, this is _your_ fault?"

Dave wasn't familiar with the term, but he got what Kurt was talking about from context. "I could have-" Dave began, but Kurt cut him off.

"You know, just because you used to bully me, it doesn't mean that I get a pass on taking responsibility for whatever happens between us going forward." Kurt said. "That was then, and this is now. And I'm the one who needs to be sorry, not you." He looked Dave square in the eye, mouth set. "I'm sorry, Dave. I didn't mean to touch you like that without your permission. It's all my fault." He passed to let the words sink in. "Do we understand each other?"

"Yeah," said Dave, understanding what Kurt needed at that moment, if not entirely the reason behind it. "It's okay. I forgive you, Kurt."

"Good," said Kurt, hoping to put the entire thing behind them. "Let's have the last bit of our water, then get going." After they each had their tiny share, Kurt stowed the empty bottle in his messenger bag, next to the other one.

They began walking again towards the sun. As the hours passed, once again the temperature rose and they began to sweat through their shirts. Dave cracked first. "Fuck it," he exclaimed. "I'm taking this goddamned thing off. It's hotter than hell." He stripped his tee off, trying to be careful of his bad arm, and handed it to Kurt to stow in the bag. He looked at his U2 shirt on Kurt, noting that there were more damp spots than dry. "Dude, seriously," he said. "Take that shit off. It's a lot cooler, I promise." At Kurt's hesitation, and obvious avoidance of looking at his bare chest, he huffed in frustration. "Look, I thought we were going to forget about this morning. You're going to risk heatstroke, just so we don't have to be shirtless around each other?"

"It's not that," said Kurt. "I just…I've never really been comfortable with that little coverage on top. You see what I wear to school; I rarely even wear short sleeves. I know its stupid, considering the situation we're in. But years of habit is hard to break." He stopped walking and dropped his messenger bag to the ground. "You're right, though, and I'm just going to have to get over it." With that, he yanked Dave's shirt off, exposing the form-fitting white tank underneath. It was completely soaked with sweat, so much so that the color and shape of his nipples showed through. Since it was revealing almost everything anyway, Kurt shrugged and took the undershirt off too. He stuffed both shirts into the bag and stood up, putting the bag over his bare shoulder and turning to Dave. "Like I said, you're right. This feels much cooler. Shall we?" he gestured in front of him, tone as casual as he could muster.

Dave had kept his gaze on Kurt's face the entire time the other boy had been removing his shirt. But as they began walking again, he couldn't help but steal covert looks at the uncharted territory of Kurt's naked chest and torso. It was smooth and hairless, and covered with pale, porcelain skin that looked so soft, Dave's fingers itched to touch it. His nipples were small and pale peach colored, and although Kurt wasn't exactly built, you could see the tautness of his muscles beneath the skin. Under the flare of his ribcage, Kurt's waist was almost impossibly small for a boy. He looked so much like the hot guys in twink porn that Dave preferred to watch almost exclusively, and it was all he could do not to stare, drool or otherwise indicate how fucking arousing a shirtless Kurt Hummel was.

The sun was a little more than directly above them, when Kurt stopped short and grabbed Dave's wrist. He turned to Dave with wide eyes. "Do…do you hear that?" he asked in an almost whisper. Dave had been trying to think non-stop about the unsexiest things he could to keep his erection at bay; Sue Sylvester naked, the time he walked in on his mom giving his dad a blow job in the kitchen one day while Dave was supposed to be at football practice, the feeling of the metal that had been buried in his arm grinding against the bone…stuff like that. He hadn't heard anything, but now that he was trying, he picked up on it.

"Is that…"

"It sounds like…"

"From down there…"

They started walking quickly towards the sound, going slightly downhill. After about 20 feet, it was much clearer. After about 50 feet, they could see the source of the sound, and just stood there blinking in shock. It was a small, rushing stream, just like something out of a nature calendar. It was _water_. Dave and Kurt turned to each other, identical grins on their faces, and took off running. When they got to the stream, they both fell to their knees and Kurt immediately began bringing handfuls of cool, clear water to his mouth. Dave tried to do the same but wasn't getting much because he could only use one hand. He was just about to stick his face in the water and drink directly from it like a dog, when he felt a tap on his shoulder. Turning, he saw Kurt holding up his cupped hands full of water, offering it to Dave with a smile. Dave bent his head and drank, the cool liquid sliding down his parched throat in what had to be the best feeling ever. Kurt alternated; a scoop for Dave, then one for himself. They continued until both of them felt the water sloshing in their stomachs, and didn't think they could drink another drop.

They fell onto their backs, sated and sighing happily. Not only was it wonderful to finally have their thirst slaked, but with what looked like an unlimited water source, getting out of the woods alive finally seemed like something more than wishful thinking. For the moment they weren't even hungry, since their bellies were so full of water. After a few moments, Kurt popped up to a sitting position. "Oh!" he exclaimed. "We can wash up, even!" He looked over at Dave with a rueful grin. "This is without a doubt the least fresh I think I've ever been in my life. Plus, it'll cool us off. Wanna?" he inquired, extending a hand. Dave took it with his left hand, and Kurt helped pull him up to his feet. They walked over to the stream, Kurt grabbing the messenger bag on the way. He pulled out their sweaty, rather smelly shirts and dunked them in the water. There was no soap, of course, but the boys used the wet shirts to wipe off their faces, arms and torsos.

Kurt sopped one of Dave's shirts with water, then held it above his head and wrung it out in a makeshift shower. The water spilled over his hair and shoulders, trickling down onto his chest. Since Kurt's eyes were closed, Dave took a moment to gaze longingly at Kurt's gorgeous body, covered with trails of moisture. His delicate nipples were tight buds from the coldness of the water. _God, he is so beautiful_, Dave thought. He wondered if he could get away with throwing his entire body in the small stream to cool his ardor, because his hard-on was back with a vengeance. Dave laid his arm across his lap, in what he hoped would look like a casual manner, to hide the bulge.

Kurt reached into the bag again, this time pulling out two items Dave hadn't expected to see - a toothbrush, and a small toothpaste tube. Dave laughed, and Kurt looked over questioningly. "Only you, Kurt," Dave said. "Only you could be stranded in the middle of nowhere, and still be able to keep up with proper oral hygiene."

Kurt blushed a little, but laughed as well. "Hey, they were in my suitcase, and they don't take up much room. I wouldn't have used our bottled water to do it, but with all of this available, why not?" He dipped his toothbrush into the stream to wet it, then added a dab of toothpaste. Dave could laugh all he wanted; Kurt felt like something had died in his mouth, and chasing it away with the fresh mint was like heaven. He wished he'd thought to grab Dave's toothbrush out of his suitcase as well, but hadn't thought of it at the time. He turned and held his toothbrush out to Dave. "Here," he said simply.

Dave goggled. "You're going to let me use your toothbrush?" he said. Life or death situation or no, Dave wasn't going to die from halitosis or tartar build-up. Kurt seemed like the last person on Earth who would ever share his toothbrush with someone.

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Dave, after seeing my first dead body outside of a funeral, and being covered in your blood, I have to say that sharing a toothbrush doesn't even register on the grossness scale for me anymore. Do you want to use it or not?" he asked, sounding a little pissy.

Dave lost his smile immediately. He hadn't meant to offend Kurt. "Sorry," he said, taking the brush and the tube of toothpaste. He brushed his teeth, finding the minty freshness as pleasant as Kurt had. He handed both items back. "Thanks, Kurt." Kurt nodded and stowed them in the bag.

Since they were a little more than halfway through their day, they decided to check the phone again. It was probably too much to hope for a signal after their luck in finding the stream, and it turned out to be the case. Still no bars. Kurt tucked the phone back into his pocket, sighing with disappointment. He looked at Dave sadly, as if he were suddenly all out of ideas, and maybe a little short on hope too.

"I was thinking," said Dave. "I know we've been following the sun, but now that we've found the stream, shouldn't we follow it instead? I think I heard that somewhere, that if you're lost in the woods, you should follow a stream if you see one. Besides, we should keep our water source close. I don't ever want to be that thirsty again."

"That sounds like a good idea," Kurt replied, rather listlessly.

Dave was disturbed by Kurt's almost sudden depression, but figured some roller-coaster emotions were to be expected of both of them under the circumstances. After they'd been walking for a couple of more hours, Dave's arm began to throb painfully out of nowhere. He thought of mentioning it to Kurt, but seeing the other boy's still morose expression, he decided not to give him anything else to worry about. It was probably nothing, just the wound getting worse before it got better, or some shit like that.

A little while later, they heard an unpleasant, high-pitched squealing noise, and walked a little ways away from the stream to investigate. The noise got louder and louder until it was so shrill it hurt their ears. They finally came to a bush where the shrieking seemed to be coming from, and Kurt cautiously parted the branches to see what was inside. Dave couldn't see because Kurt's shoulders were blocking his view, but he heard Kurt gasp and say, "Oh, no, you poor thing." He reached in and pulled something out carefully, and Dave was finally able to see what it was.

It was a medium-sized gray rabbit, and one of its back paws was horribly mangled. It had stopped squealing and was barely moving, probably paralyzed with fear from the human contact. Kurt was stroking its fur softly, trying to give it some kind of comfort. Dave knew it was probably terrible of him, but what was going through his head personally was not _oh you poor sweet woodland creature_ but _oh my God it's __**food**__!_ They were coming up on the end of their third day, and in that time they had each consumed half of a small energy bar. Considering how many calories they'd burned walking nearly every waking moment, Dave was surprised they were still going. He bet they'd both lost at least a few pounds over the last couple of days, and while he could certainly spare more than a few, Kurt could not. He didn't know if Kurt was naturally skinny, or if he dieted, but he was pretty sure the slender boy's BMI was way under the normal range for his height.

Dave looked down at Kurt still stroking the rabbit. _Man, this is going to suck._ "Kurt?" he said gently. Kurt turned to him, eyes wet with tears. _Oh fuck._

"It's a rabbit, Dave," he said, as if Dave were blind. "It looks hurt, like maybe another animal got at it. It must have crawled under there to die, poor baby." He turned back to the injured animal, and Dave heard him say, "It's okay, we've got you now. You're going to be all right."

It was almost like finding the bunny had regressed Kurt back to his normal, non-survival mode. It was an understandable reaction if he'd found it in his back yard or something, where he could get it to a vet quickly. But in the woods, with no medical supplies, and when he and Dave were literally starving? _Come on, Kurt_, Dave thought. _Don't make me point it out to you_. But as Kurt just continued to make soothing noises, Dave knew he had to say something, before Kurt gave it a fucking cutesy name. Dave pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes, trying to steel himself for the coming drama.

"Kurt, it looks pretty bad," he said, sinking to his knees beside him. "We don't really have any way to make him better, I don't think."

"We could bandage it up, maybe with my tank top?" said Kurt hopefully.

Okay, Sensible Kurt had definitely left the building, replaced by Tender-Hearted Kurt. He seriously wanted to use one of the few items they were lucky enough to possess for a wild animal? "Even if we did, Kurt, he can't move like this. Predators would have him in no time."

"Maybe we could…bring him with us?"

_Oh you have got to be fucking kidding me_, though Dave. He tried to hold on to his temper, since he knew Kurt probably couldn't help being irrational at the moment. "Kurt, we can barely take care of ourselves. Stream or no, we're still in serious trouble. We need to be focused if we're going to make it out." Kurt was silent, and Dave took it as a sign of acceptance. "Besides, it's the first food we've seen since we crashed. It's almost like it was meant to be…" Dave trailed off as Kurt turned to face him, white-faced and furious.

"Food?" Kurt spit. "That's all you see when you look at him? Your fucking dinner, you _pig_?"

"No, Kurt," Dave responded angrily. "It's not _all_ I see. I see a living creature in pain, that's not going to be able to survive in the wild more than a day or so. But yes, I _do_ see food. I see meat, and protein. I see something that might buy us _human beings_ a couple more days of survival."

Kurt's face crumpled, and it broke Dave's heart. He took Kurt's hand off of the rabbit, then scooped the animal his lap and balanced it with his bad arm. He put his left hand on the bunny's tiny head and grasped it firmly. "Don't look, Kurt," he said, roughly. "You don't need to see this. Just take a walk, okay?"

Kurt looked at Dave, tears pouring down his face. Logically, Kurt knew Dave was right. But in this moment, the bunny in Dave's arms seemed to represent everything that Kurt used to be, and value. If he admitted that they needed to make cold, cruel decisions like this, it was like admitting that their old lives might be gone for good. They would cross that line from civilized to uncivilized, and Kurt wasn't sure he had the mental fortitude to deal with that. "Please," he pleaded quietly. "Please don't do this, Dave. I'm begging you."

Dave closed his eyes to stop his own tears from coming. It was killing him to hurt Kurt like this. He tried once more to make him understand. "This isn't a Disney movie. This is reality. We need to do this to survive, Kurt. Now _take a fucking walk_."

"No," said Kurt. And with that, he launched himself at Dave, trying to grab the rabbit.

Dave let go of the animal, which was luckily unable to run away. He threw it to the side and pushed Kurt hard with his left hand, knocking him to the ground. It had been a long time since he'd directed any physical violence towards Kurt, and his stomach roiled. Kurt sprang up onto his knees, obviously shocked that Dave had shoved him. The feelings of when Dave used to terrorize him and slam him into lockers came roaring back. "You bullying piece of shit!" he cried. "You haven't changed at all!"

Dave could tell that Kurt was working up to sheer hysteria, and wished that he had the strength to slap him into sensibility. But as much as he'd pushed Kurt around, he'd never been able even in the worst days of his tormenting to strike Kurt. And if he couldn't do it back then - confused and filled with rage and self-loathing - there was no way he could do it now. Kurt lunged for him again, and this time Dave shoved him even harder, knocking him back quite a ways. He grabbed the rabbit with his bad arm, feeling the agonizing bolt of pain shoot through it. Just as Kurt got back onto his knees and looked at him, Dave twisted the rabbit's head sharply with his left hand and broke its neck.

"Nooooooooo!" screamed Kurt, brokenly. Dave could see in his eyes that he'd simply snapped, and he tossed the dead rabbit aside again to deal with whatever Kurt was going to do next. Whatever it was, he doubted it would be pretty.

The hot rage that shot through every corner of Kurt's body was so overwhelming, he thought he might literally burst into flames from it. When he looked at Dave, he didn't see the boy who made sure he had a slightly larger share of energy bar, or hugged him when he cried over missing Nationals. He only saw the monster that had constantly proven how weak Kurt was, and how effortlessly he could hurt or even kill him if he so desired. Dave could have broken his neck as easily as he had the innocent bunny's, and it was probably only his transferring to Dalton that prevented it. He was a _monster_, and Kurt hated him with every fiber of his being. He raced over to Dave and slid forward on his knees, punching and hitting every inch that he could reach and cursing like he'd never done before. "Fucking…bastard…I fucking hate you…Fat ugly sonofabitch _cocksucker_!"

If Kurt using the word "cocksucker" hadn't convinced Dave that he'd lost it completely, the fact that Kurt didn't seem to care about his injured arm certainly did. He tried to fight Kurt off, but Kurt's fury combined with the use of both of his arms gave him a significant advantage over Dave. Kurt's fist struck directly on Dave's wound, and Dave cried out in pain. But instead of bringing Kurt back to his senses, a crazed satisfied look settled on his face, like he was glad he'd caused Dave such agony. _Dude has lost his fucking mind_, thought Dave_. Oh shit_. It was going to be hard to restrain Kurt in his condition, but he was going to have to do his best before Kurt hurt either one of them too badly. The only thing Dave really had going for himself was his bulk, so he threw his good arm around Kurt to trap his flailing arms, and fell forward heavily.

Pinned beneath Dave, Kurt went even crazier, arching his back violently in an attempt to throw Dave off of him. He screamed hysterically, bucking up against Dave and trying unsuccessfully to flip them over. Against his will, Dave began to harden, even though he was appalled by his own sexual arousal. Especially since Kurt was shrieking "Get off me get off me _get the fuck off me_!" at the top of his lungs. He was well aware of how much like sexual assault the scenario would have looked to anyone else if they could have seen it. Dave didn't move at all, just settled his dead weight over Kurt and waited for his anger to finally die out. It took a while, but finally Kurt's thrashings slowed, and finally stopped completely with a despondent sob.

Dave had been avoiding Kurt's eyes the whole time he'd been restraining him, unable to handle the loathing and betrayal he knew he'd see there. But now he looked at the beautiful green orbs awash in tears and sorrow, drowning in their emotion. Kurt's breath hitched, and Dave was unable to resist a single second more. Eyes flickering for just a moment to Kurt's pink, moist lips, he brought his mouth to Kurt's and kissed him. For a moment, Kurt didn't do anything, as Dave sucked at his lips and ran his tongue along their seam. Without warning, Kurt's mouth opened, and his own tongue reached out to slide rather enthusiastically against Dave's. Kurt let out a muffled whimper, and Dave could feel him trying to work his arms free. Dave released Kurt, bringing his good arm to the ground so he could shift some of his weight off of the boy beneath him. Arms freed, Kurt cupped Dave's face with one hand and clutched at his back with the other, nails digging in as their shared kisses became more and more aggressive. Dave lost himself in the taste and texture of Kurt's mouth, groaning and thrusting his renewed erection against Kurt's matching hardness.

For Kurt, it was like all of the emotion from his anger had been instantly alchemized into lust. He sucked hard on Dave's tongue, and closed his teeth on Dave's lower lip, tugging roughly. He was mindless, his body consumed with the need to prove how alive they really were. Kurt moaned as Dave's lips left his and trailed down his neck, licking and sucking the tender skin. The hand that had been cupping Dave's cheek slid into his hair, scratching thorough the short curls.

Dave's tongue dipped into the hollow at the base of Kurt's throat, teasing the rapid pulse he found there. Part of him just wanted to keep his head down, exploring further and further with his mouth until he'd tasted every inch of Kurt's body. But he needed to make sure Kurt was fully aware of what was happening, and most importantly, _who_ it was happening with. So even though he knew it might cause Kurt to change his mind, he kissed his way back up to those soft lips, then pulled away to finally make eye contact. Kurt's face was flushed, his hairline damp with perspiration and his eyes shut. When Dave didn't bring his mouth back to Kurt, though, those eyes opened up, pupils blown and clouded with desire. Dave held Kurt's unseeing gaze until it cleared, and saw full recognition in the green depths. He held his breath, waiting for Kurt to push him away, or shrink back into the dirt under him. Instead, Kurt just stared back at him, motionless. Dave knew he should vocalize his doubts; _ Do you know what you're doing? Do you want this? Do you want __**me**__?_ But he could only look at Kurt, hoping the other boy could sense the chaos in his heart.

Finally cognizant of his surroundings, Kurt looked into Dave's eyes and clearly saw the questions there. Dave was his former bully, who later became a civil acquaintance, and over the last three days, a fellow survivor and friend. Was he willing to make that leap, and let Dave become his lover? Could he betray Blaine, who he would likely never see again, in order to satisfy his body's desperate urges? Could he open himself up physically to Dave, in a way that he'd never done with anyone else? _Am I willing to let Dave have this first too?_ As he looked into Dave's hesitant eyes, the answer to all the questions was easily the same. _Hell, yes._ He nodded slowly, arching his lower body up and spreading his legs slightly in invitation.

"Oh God," groaned Dave, bringing his mouth back to Kurt's in a grateful and passionate kiss. He dropped kisses down Kurt's neck again, this time going further until he reached his nipples. Dave laved the tender buds, nipping occasionally and drawing desperate gasps from Kurt. He pushed himself up onto his knees, the setting sun drizzling butterscotch-colored rays onto the beautiful boy beneath him. Kurt's pink flush was back, this time radiating down into his neck and chest from arousal. Dave brought his hand to the fly of Kurt's pants and tugged it open, reaching inside to touch the bare skin of Kurt's cock. The moment contact was made, Kurt cried out, speaking for the first time since things had turned passionate. "Oh, yes! Touch me, Dave! Just like that!"

Dave worked his fist over Kurt's erection, jerking it firmly. He wanted to push Kurt's pants down to see all of his gorgeous prick, but his singular working hand was kind of busy at the moment. But Kurt must have been psychic, or wanted the same thing, because suddenly his hands were pushing his pants down his thighs. Dave only had a moment to take in the sight of Kurt spread out beneath him, cock purpling as Dave's big hand stroked him off, before Kurt pulled himself up to his own knees. His hands went to the elastic waistband of Dave's shorts, pulling them down roughly. Kurt grabbed Dave's stiff cock and began to tug on it rhythmically, as the bigger boy shouted his pleasure.

On their knees, they brought their dicks together and began to rub them against each other, moaning and grunting at the blissful feel. There was a slickness from pre-come and sweat that had their hard-ons sliding together in the loveliest way. Kurt reached out and gently pushed Dave, who fell onto his back more than willingly. Kurt crawled up onto him, straddling his pelvis and grinding his naked cock against Dave's. They thrust against each other aggressively, each reaching for their soon-to-be-realized climax.

"Oh fuck!" cried Dave. "Gonna…gonna fucking shoot, I can't…"

"Me too," gasped Kurt. "Going to come. Come all over you, Dave…"

They both reached their peak at almost exactly the same time. Dave began to spurt first, but Kurt followed shortly, dumping his creamy load all over Dave's lower abdomen. They both cried out, their ejaculate combining together in a gooey mess. Kurt's legs gave out, and he collapsed onto Dave, spreading their spendings against each other's bellies and softening cocks. They lay there pressed together bonelessly for a long while, as the approaching dusk painted their near-nude bodies in a lavender light.

Finally, Kurt roused himself, pushing off of Dave. He wanted to pull up his pants, but seeing as he had semen smeared all over him, thought better of it. He pulled the pants and his underwear off entirely instead. What the hell, it wasn't like Dave hadn't seen pretty much all there was to see of him at this point. Dave was still laying flat on his back, his open eyes staring at the tops of the trees. Apparently, he didn't have any more of a clue what to say after what they'd just done than Kurt did. "I'm going to go wash up in the stream," Kurt said quietly.

"'kay," Dave replied, with no discernable emotion in his voice.

Naked, Kurt made his way down to the stream carefully; it was getting rather dark, and a little chilly too. He splashed water onto his stomach and genitals, scrubbing a little to get the come out of his pubic hair. _So,_ he thought, _that's what it's like_. _Sex with another boy_. It was messy and dirty, but also…wonderful. It felt like nothing he'd ever experienced before, the utter abandon and delight of sliding his hardness against flesh not his own, and the feel of a cock in his hand so very different than the one he possessed. He'd thought his first time would be with Blaine, of course. But now Blaine seemed so far away, almost like an idea, or a character, instead of a person. The isolation and focus on survival seemed to have shrunk his universe overnight, to a small space with only enough room for two people. He knew if they got back, he would feel horribly guilty for cheating on Blaine. But right now, it paled in significance to their struggle to live, and the discovery of something that could transport Kurt - however temporally - into a place with no fear or sorrow.

Kurt walked back to where Dave was, but stopped by the messenger bag and picked out Dave's shirt and the two empty water bottles. Returning to the stream, he wet the shirt and wrung it out, then filled the bottles up and capped them. He walked slowly back up to Dave, who didn't look like he'd moved an inch. Kurt kneeled down and began to wipe the mess of spunk off of Dave, who started when he felt the cool cloth on his skin.

Dave propped himself up on his good arm, rather bemusedly watching Kurt clean their combined come off of his body. It had to be number one on the list of Top 10 Things David Karofsky Never Thought He'd See With His Own Eyes. Dave had expected Kurt to be upset, or even angry after their…whatever you called that. Instead, he seemed relaxed, accepting. Even a little…sweet? Maybe it was the same afterglow Dave was feeling, the loose contentment of sharing that much pleasure with another person. And in Dave's case, at least, with a person he'd desired for years. Kurt finished his ministrations, tossing the damp shirt aside and tugging Dave's shorts back up over his hips. His eyes met Dave's with a steady calm. But even Kurt seemed okay, Dave still felt the need to ask the question. "Are you all right, Kurt?" he said softly.

"Yes, I am," Kurt replied, with just the hint of a smile. "And you?"

"Oh uh…sure," stammered Dave, feeling color rise to his cheeks.

"Good," said Kurt briskly, standing up. "We should get dressed, and try to collect as much firewood as we can while there's a little light left." He held out his hand to help Dave to his feet. "We'll need a big enough one to cook our dinner," he said casually, surprising Dave. "But first…" he trailed off, then drew closer to Dave and lifted his head to kiss him gently. "I'm sorry I fell apart like that, Dave. Did I hurt your arm at all?"

Kurt _had_, of course, but at that moment wild horses couldn't have dragged a true answer out of Dave. Not when Kurt seemed so at ease, and practically affectionate. Besides, what difference did it make? His arm had been hurting like a bitch before Kurt struck him, and probably would be throbbing painfully at this moment either way. "Nah," he lied. "It's fine." The relieved smile on Kurt's face was worth every painful pulse. As far as Dave was concerned, Kurt could rip his arm off and beat him over the head with it, just as long as he kept smiling like that.

The two of them repeated the steps of the evening before, minus building the lean-to, and by the time it was full dark they had a nicely-sized fire going. They hadn't been able to collect enough wood to feed the fire overnight before it got dark, but the boys thought that maybe they'd found and even better way to stay warm under the Kurt's robe. Dave thrust a branch through the rabbit's body and left it in the fire, allowing the hair to burn off and the meat to cook through. They removed it from the fire, set it on a flat rock, and picked the meat apart with their fingers. It was a little tough and gamey tasting, but to the starving teenagers, it was the most delicious thing either of them had ever eaten. They drank and rinsed their fingers off with the water bottles, then Kurt carried the remains of the rabbit into the woods a ways and flung it as far as he could, so as to not attract predators to their campsite. But the time he got back, Dave was stretched out in front of the fire under the robe, his shorts discarded to the side. Kurt grinned, shucking off his own pants and tossing them aside.

He walked up to Dave, more comfortable with his nudity than he would have ever imagined. They way he felt with Dave, he thought he might be fine with walking around naked as Adam and Eve 24/7. His cock was already starting to fill, as if in anticipation of the pleasure it knew Dave could bring. "Is there room under there for me?" he inquired teasingly.

Dave lifted the robe and looked under it, as if checking. "I think so," he said. "You're going to have to share the space with a little friend of mine, though."

Kurt slid under the robe. "I don't remember him being that little," he replied, reaching down. He grasped Dave's already needy and hard prick with his hand, giggling a little at how Dave's eyes nearly crossed with pleasure. "Nope, not little at all." He leaned in for a kiss, and let everything but the feel of making love with Dave melt away to nothingness.

_**Jeeze, I thought the last chapter was long! This one was a doozy, but damn I get wordy when I'm writing smut! I know many of you were really looking forward to this chapter, so I hope it didn't disappoint. Reviews as always are so greatly appreciated.**_


	6. Chapter 6

_**As usual, your reviews have made me happier than I can express. Thank you all so much for your support, and coming on this journey with me. {{{hugs}} I am going to try and not get distracted with Glee back on my screen, but I think it's going to be hard. Still, I'll be seeing this one out to the end…promise!**_

_**We're back to the gross stuff again with Dave's arm in this chapter, and I apologize in advance for any medical continuity issues with my writing. I've tried to research online, but I readily admit I have no medical background. Oh, and it's aaaaaaagnsty, too.**_

When Dave woke up the next morning, he didn't feel Kurt's soft hair against his face as he had the last two. He'd have been disappointed, but what he _did_ feel was way better, so he wasn't in the mood to complain. There was a hot, damp suction sliding up and down his dick, and Kurt's hair was instead brushing against Dave's thigh. He looked down and saw a Kurt-shaped form under the robe, so he pulled it off with his good hand to enjoy the visual accompaniment of Kurt's ministrations. Kurt was lying on his side, just like Dave, working his mouth back and forth on Dave's hardness. Just the sight of Kurt's lips stretched wide by his erection, and his dark hair bobbing was nearly enough to make him come on the spot. If he hadn't gotten off so many times and in so many ways the night before, he probably would have.

Dave groaned, and Kurt lifted his mouth off of Dave. "Good morning," he said, following the sultry greeting with a wet, open kiss on the tip of Dave's prick. He brought the tip of his tongue to the slit and flickered it across several times, looking Dave right in the eye as he did. "I thought I'd repay the favor," he said, referring to how Dave had sucked him off so enthusiastically the night before.

"You don't have to…" said Dave, trailing off as Kurt's hand got into the act and began massaging the shaft.

"I know," said Kurt. "But I want to. I loved watching you do it to me last night, and you looked like you were having almost as much fun as I was." He arched a naughty eyebrow. "You surprised me when you swallowed, you know. Did you like how I tasted?"

God, Kurt talking about such dirty things in that high, sweet voice was undoing Dave completely. "Y…yes," he stammered out, trying to hold it together and respond in turn. "I loved it. So silky…unnnnh…and salty. So _good_. But you don't have to, if you don't want to."

"Oh, I want to," Kurt assured him. "You're leaking already, and it's tasty. I want more, Dave. I want it _all_." With that, he brought Dave's cock back into his mouth again and began sucking in earnest. He didn't know whether it was their surroundings, or the isolation, or maybe just Dave himself; but Kurt felt completely uninhibited and wild, wanting to do things he'd never even imagined before. He'd always thought before that getting a blowjob might feel good, but giving one wasn't something he'd ever looked forward to. But watching Dave's face in the flickering flames of the fire last night, balancing himself on his good arm while he worshipped Kurt's cock with his mouth was positively inspiring. When he woke up that morning to feel Dave's hardness against his leg, getting it in his mouth as quickly as possible was his first order of business.

Dave started to thrust shallowly as his balls tightened. "Oh yeah, Kurt! Here it comes…I'm coming…" he ended with a shout, shooting his seed into Kurt's hot mouth. He could hear Kurt making pleasurable little "mmf" sounds as he swallowed it all down. When he was spent, Kurt pushed gently on his hip and Dave rolled onto his back bonelessly. Kurt kissed his now limp penis tenderly, then trailed butterfly kisses all up Dave's torso to his neck and finally, his face. After they shared a deep, wet kiss, Kurt folded his arms on Dave's chest and rested his chin on his hands, smiling.

Dave smiled back, but now that the pleasure was over, the throbbing, almost burning pain in his arm was coming back to the fore. It had been easier to hide in the dark last night, but with Kurt gazing blissfully at him in the bright sunlight, it was harder to keep the pain out of his expression. He reached forward with his neck and kissed Kurt's forehead. "That was amazing, Kurt," he said.

Kurt beamed. "Thank you. It was even better than I thought it would be. I really like having you in my mouth." His smile turned sly. "In fact, I think I just like having you, period."

Dave's heart clenched. Hearing Kurt express his desire for him verbally just wasn't something he'd ever thought he'd get to experience. He hated that the pain in his arm was keeping him from enjoying it fully. "Right back at you," he said with what he hoped was a light grin. "Not to ruin the mood, but I really need to take a leak. I gotta get up," he said. Kurt pouted, but rolled off obediently. He walked over to get his clothes, and Dave took advantage of his turned back to get up, face scrunching up at how badly his arm hurt when he moved it even the least little bit. He began moving away from the campsite, trying to walk as normally as possible. It wasn't easy, because on top of the pain, Dave was also starting to realize he didn't feel very well in general. He ached all over, and shivered a bit even though the morning was another warm one.

Dressed, Kurt turned and was surprised to see that Dave was still there. At first he planned on just ogling the other boy's nudity from behind, but it didn't take long to notice Dave was walking slowly and carefully, as if the ground were covered in ice. Frowning, got up and approached Dave from the back. "Are you okay, Dave?" he asked, placing a gentle hand on his bandage. He jumped back in shock when Dave cried out - screamed, really - and fell to his knees. Kurt came around to his front and sank down as well, eyes wide at the agony in Dave's face. "Shit, what is it? Is it your arm?" he asked shakily.

Dave wanted to tell him it was fine. He _wanted _it to be fine, so badly. But something was definitely not right, and he knew he shouldn't try to hide it from Kurt any longer. Getting his breath back, he finally spoke. "Yeah, it…really fucking hurts, man. Burns, like it's on fire."

"Since when?" asked Kurt quietly, trying not to panic.

"It started yesterday afternoon. It wasn't so bad, at first." He paused. "And then it kinda was, but then you and I were…together, and I was able to push it aside. But now, it's really, really bad. And I feel kind of strange too, like I'm coming down with the flu or something."

"Oh God," Kurt breathed. He looked down and took several deep breaths to calm himself, because freaking out was not going to help matters. "We have to look at your wound, Dave. I don't want to jump to any conclusions until we get that bandage off and see what's going on beneath it. We'll get your shorts on and go down to the stream, okay?" Dave nodded, and leaned on Kurt heavily as he got to his feet and Kurt slipped his shorts quickly up his legs. Kurt walked him down to the stream and had him sit down, then went back for their bag. He wished like hell he'd brought the sewing kit, but it had been so bulky he hadn't wanted to take up the limited space in the leather bag. He could have brought the scissors, at least, but he honestly hadn't thought of it. _Stupid, stupid_, he thought.

He sat down next to Dave, bringing his hands to the bandage. "I don't have any way to get this off, other than to untie the knots," he said. He tried to keep the tears from coming, but failed. "It's going to hurt, I know. I'm so sorry, I don't want to hurt you anymore." His breath hitched in a small sob.

"Don't cry, Kurt," said Dave, hating to see him so distressed. "It's okay, it's gonna hurt like a mother no matter what. I know you'll be as careful as you can." He gave a small smile. "Give me a kiss first. It makes me feel a lot better."

Kurt framed Dave's face in his hands and kissed him soundly, a tear falling down his cheek as he did. Dammit, if Dave was going to be tough, he could too. He pulled back and wiped his eyes, giving a watery smile in return. "You can have as many as you want," he said. Taking a deep breath and blowing it out, he brought his hands back to the bandage again. It took a while, Dave hissing and sometimes crying out in pain, but finally the knots on top were loosened and Kurt began to unwind the strips. When he got to the bottom layer, though, they we stuck fast to the wound. Kurt took out one of the bottles, and used it to take water from the stream and pour it over the cloth to help loosen it. After a lot of water and some very unpleasant tugging, the bandage was completely removed.

Looking at the stitched up wound, Kurt and Dave's worst fears were confirmed. Despite Kurt's frantic attempt to clean the vicious cut before wrapping it, it looked like sacrificing the water had been in vain after all. The barely connected skin was red and swollen, pushing up terribly against the thread and crusted black in several places. The boys could literally feel heat baking off of the wound. It was oozing disgusting looking yellow pus, and there was a terrible smell. Dave's arm was badly, _dangerously_ infected.

Neither Kurt nor Dave said a word. Silently, Kurt picked up the water bottle again and began to rinse the cut, this time not even trying to hold back his tears. He grabbed his tank top out of the bag and soaked it, wiping the pus and crust away as gently as he could. When he was done, he wrapped the shirt around Dave's arm, tied off the ends, and placed a soft kiss on top of it.

Dave sat in a stunned state, barely even flinching as Kurt applied the fresh bandage. _I really am going to die out here_, he thought. _But I'm not ready. Not even close._ He looked at Kurt's tear-streaked face, and the numbness faded. "I'm sorry," he rasped out.

"God, for what?" asked Kurt.

"For not telling you about this earlier." Regret and self-pity poured through him, and he began to cry as well. "For calling my uncle, and texting you to come with me on the plane. For all the shit I did to you earlier this year - the slushies, and the pushing, and the locker room, and that _fucking_ cake topper. And I'm sorry for having sex with you, because it just makes this all so much harder."

He was shocked to see Kurt's eyes narrow, and the sorrow turn to anger. "Don't you _dare_," Kurt hissed at him. "Don't you dare apologize for that."

"Kurt-"

"I said _don't_!" Kurt shouted. "You can regret anything else, but not that. Not making love with me. I don't care how it happened, or why, or what the consequences will be. It's been the most beautiful, wonderful experience I've ever had with another person, and you will _not_ shit all over it by saying you're sorry it happened. Fuck that, Dave!"

Dave didn't know what to say. He hadn't meant to hurt Kurt; just the opposite, in fact. "You're right," he said to Kurt. "I'm not sorry about it. It's what I've always wanted, and never ever _ever_ thought I'd have. You in my arms, letting me touch you, and you touching me back." He reached for Kurt's hand with his good one, and was relieved to see the anger leave the other boy's face. "Letting me love you, the way I always wanted to."

Kurt swallowed. He didn't know if he loved Dave, but he knew that his feelings for him went well beyond mere friendship, or comfort sex. It had only been four days, but the crisis they'd been mired in seemed to have sped up time, or condensed it somehow. It was like months or even years of feelings had all been packed into just a few short days. And in a crazy way it made sense, because they might very well be trying to cram the rest of their lives into what was likely the short time they both had left. As hopeful as Kurt had tried to be, there was always a part of him that figured they'd never make it out of the woods alive. He reached out to touch Dave's cheek tenderly. "That's much better," Kurt said.

"Forgive me?" asked Dave.

"Of course," Kurt answered. "For anything you think needs forgiving." Dave's cheek was hot beneath his hand, and he trailed his fingers up to his broad forehead. _Damn._ "I think you have a fever, Dave. Probably from the infection."

Dave sighed. "That would make sense, I guess," he said. "What the hell are we going to do, Kurt? I am a hot fucking mess right now." He snorted. "No pun intended."

"The first thing we're going to do is try my phone," Kurt said, fishing it out of his pocket. Unbelievably, the two of them had been so distracted by getting it on, they'd never even checked it upon settling down into their campsite last night. Kurt turned his phone on, noticing that the battery was down to one notch before looking up to see if bars appeared at the top. As usual, there was nothing, and he fought the urge to throw the phone into the stream spitefully. Instead, he turned it off and put it back in his pocket. He turned back to Dave, hating what he needed to say next.

"I don't think you're in much shape to travel very far," he said to Dave. "I think maybe we should get you comfortable, and you can rest while I go on ahead."

"Without me?" asked Dave, blinking. "You're leaving me behind?"

"Not for long," Kurt assured him. "I just think I can get a ways further on my own, and then if I don't find anything, I'll come back. Way before sunset even, I promise."

Dave paused for a long moment before replying. "You shouldn't," he said.

"Dave, come on. I don't want to leave you, even for a little bit. But not only will it be really slow going if you try to come along, it'll make you even sicker. You can't be wandering around the woods in this heat with a fever like this. It's not good for y-"

"That's not what I meant," said Dave, cutting him off. He looked Kurt straight in the eye. "You shouldn't come back."

"I beg your _pardon_?" said Kurt, goggling. "What did you just say?"

"Don't come back. You need to get as far as you can, if you're going to make it out of here."

"_We're_ going to make it out of here, Dave," Kurt said. "You and me, together."

Dave reached out and grabbed the back of Kurt's neck, pulling him into a passionate kiss. Breathless, their lips finally parted. Dave rested their foreheads together, and Kurt could feel how frighteningly heated Dave's brow was. "No we're not," said Dave. He released Kurt, but kept eye contact. "Either you're going to get out, or we're going to die here together. But me?" He looked meaningfully at his arm. "I'm not going home, Kurt. This is the end of the line for me. But there's still hope for you, if you keep moving."

"No," said Kurt firmly. "No way, no _fucking_ way."

"If you care about me at all, you'll do it. Because I can't die in peace if I know you sacrificed your life to stay with me." He tried to stay strong, but the tears came anyway. "And I can't watch you see it happen. It's just too much to take."

"No," Kurt repeated, but it was softer, and choked with his own tears. "You can't _die_ that way? Well, if you think I can _live_ so much as one extra day, knowing that it came at the expense of your dying alone, you don't know me at all. I couldn't have even done it before yesterday, I don't think. But now that we're…_lovers_, you can't possibly believe that I'd be able to do that." He grabbed Dave's good hand tightly. "I know I said I didn't want you to regret it. But if you ever expected me walk away and leave you to die, you should never have touched me. Because I can't, and I won't." He kissed the palm of Dave's hand, then stood and tugged gently, helping Dave rise to his feet. "So let's get you back to the campsite and get you settled, and then I'm leaving. But I _am_ coming back, Dave, whether you want me to or not."

Kurt got Dave back to the abandoned robe and eased him down to the ground. He put Dave's shirt on him and then carefully laid him back on the ground, covering him with the robe. He built up a small pile of rocks, put some pine branches on top to make it a little softer, and laid Dave's injured arm on it so it would be elevated. Finally, he went back to the stream and refilled both bottles with water, placing them within easy reach of Dave's left hand. Dave was silent through all of it, though his fever-bright eyes followed Kurt's every move. Kurt wished there was more he could do to make Dave comfortable, both because he didn't want Dave to suffer any more than necessary, and to put off leaving him a little while longer. But he knew there was nothing else to do, so he kneeled next to Dave and took his hand. "I'm going now," he said simply.

Dave just looked at him without saying anything, and Kurt fought the urge to roll his eyes. Seriously, Dave was going to give him the cold shoulder, just because Kurt wouldn't leave him to die in the freaking woods? He sighed. "Can I have a kiss goodbye?" he said, letting a little bit of teasing hope creep into his voice. He smiled, but Dave didn't return it. He did give Kurt a brief nod, but when Kurt went in to kiss his lips, he turned his head to the side so Kurt got his stubbled cheek instead. Kurt kissed it softly and then pulled away, not even trying to hide his disappointment. Dave was pulling back, he knew, protecting himself emotionally; Kurt both understood completely, and hated it at the same time. He got to his feet and brushed the dirt off his pants, then walked over to pick up the messenger bag. Shouldering it, he gave it one last shot, turning Dave and saying, "Bye, Dave. I'll see you soon, okay?" When there was no response, he turned and started walking away, shoulders slumped and tears starting to sting his eyes.

He'd only gotten a few steps when he heard it. "Wait," called Dave, softly. He turned and started walking back, but Dave held up his hand to stop him.

"You need to get going Kurt," he said. "But…I'm sorry. Sorry for being a stubborn asshole."

Kurt tilted his head and grinned. "That's okay. You're forgiven," he replied. He kissed his fingers and blew it to Dave playfully. He saw Dave struggle not to smile, and lose. He turned away and walked another step, but Dave's voice stopped him again.

"Kurt, don't turn around," he said. "You need to leave quickly, before it gets much later. But I have to tell you. I have to say it." There was a long pause, during which it took every molecule of Kurt's control to stay as he was. "I love you, Kurt. Now please go, and try to get us the fuck out of here. I'll be waiting."

Kurt raised his hand in acknowledgement, the only thing he could do without breaking down and running back to the other boy. Dave was right, he had to go. Because if he went back there and threw his arms around him? Said the three words itching to leap off his tongue into Dave's ear? He'd never be able to leave again, and that would commit them both to a death sentence. So he hitched the bag a little higher, and walked down to the stream to follow it further.

Kurt had no way to really keep track of the time, so he figured he'd just walk until the sun was directly overhead, about noon or so. From where it was currently, he thought he could do about three hours or so. If he hadn't gotten a signal by then, or found help, he'd turn back to make sure he was with Dave before it got dark. After that, he wasn't sure what he was going to do; it wasn't like he could make it much further if he tried again the next morning, and if he risked a different direction than the stream was in, he could easily get lost and not be able to find his way back to camp. The thought of Dave, all alone and waiting for him to return while he wandered lost in the woods was too overwhelming to even contemplate.

Instead, Kurt thought about what Dave had said to him before he left, and how badly he wanted to say the words back to him. But did he _really _love Dave? Or was it just the situation they were in, making things so much more dramatic and urgent? It was hard to tell. He and Blaine hadn't gotten to saying "I love you," to each other yet; they had only been dating for three months, were taking things slow being each other's first boyfriends, and it just seemed like there was plenty of time for those deeper feelings to develop. The way he felt about Blaine was totally different. Not better or worse, but _different_. Being with Blaine was warm, and comfortable. Pleasant. Kurt felt safe with him, and feeling secure in a relationship had always been something Kurt had longed for after being rejected by his other crushes. His feelings for Dave were much more complicated, and obviously influenced a lot by the sensuality of what they'd done together. With Dave, he felt wild and unrestrained, like a different sort of person all together. He loved having sex with Dave, however, that was for sure. In fact, if by some chance they did make it back to Lima, he wasn't sure he could stop wanting to be with him in that way. How could he ever pass Dave in the hallway, or sit in the choir room with him, without thinking about what it was like to suck on Dave's nipples like they were the sweetest candy? Or how big and strong Dave's hand was, so different from his own, as it stroked up and down Kurt's pale length and made him come so hard he saw stars?

He knew now that Dave had liked him for a long time, probably even loved him for months or even longer. If they got home, could Dave handle the possibility of them leaving this all behind? Or would Dave fight for him, demanding that Kurt make a decision, and choose between him and Blaine? And speaking of Blaine, what about him? Would Kurt have to tell him about what had happened, or would Blaine be able to tell just by looking at or talking to him? Would he understand how things had happened so unexpectedly, considering he and Dave's struggle for survival? Or would he hold Kurt to the same standards that he would have had the plane crash never happened? Even if he did understand and forgive Kurt, could their relationship handle Blaine knowing that he would never be the first to touch his boyfriend's dick, or to slip his own cock between Kurt's soft lips?

The questions spun around in his head as he made his way along the stream, hardly even seeing what was in front of him as he navigated the uneven terrain. In fact, he didn't even notice he was walking into a large clearing until he saw the large shape at the back of it loom in his peripheral vision. His head shot up, and he stopped dead. He blinked a few times, sure he must be hallucinating or imagining it, but finally accepting that what he saw was real.

Kurt had found a cabin, sitting picturesquely in the sun, next to the sparkling stream.

_**Ooooooh cliffhanger! XD**_

_**I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to get this chapter up and that it's on the shorter side. I've had work drama and family drama, and it hasn't left me a lot of time to write. I pretty much have the rest of the story plotted out, I just need to find the time to write it. As always, your reviews make me even more determined to eek the time out of my crazy-ass schedule, so please do so if you can.**_


	7. Chapter 7

_**I've responded to everyone who mentioned it in their review, but I'd like to announce it officially for anyone who might also be worried. Dave is not going to die. I repeat: **__**Dave is not going to die**__**.**__** If I were to ever to write a fic with character death, I would be very, very sure to mention it upfront in the summary. I rarely read those types of fics myself, and if someone sprung a CD on me I'd be extremely pissed. So I won't be killing Dave or Kurt off in this story, I promise.**_

_**I never intended in advance to leave the last chapter as a cliffhanger; I just had promised myself I'd post by Friday night, and that's as far as I could get, LOL. Sometimes though, fate turns out to be better than what you'd originally planned. XD I have loved reading your reviews speculating about the cabin and what it will mean to the story, and the muse and I are tickled that something we've written has sparked other people's creativity.**_

_**Speaking of which, Gothicundra is going to be illustrating this story and making it into a full manga comic. I am so blown away by this, I've been in shock for a couple of days. First page is up here (remove spaces) http : / / gothicthundra . deviantart . com / # / d3eozil Check it out, and show her some love if you have a DeviantArt account!**_

_**Lastly, I'd like to thank lostenergy and LizzyPoodle for letting me know I'm on the right track, medically speaking, with the progression of Dave's infection. I know its fic and I'm entitled to use artistic license, but I still like knowing my research paid off. XD**_

_**So now that I've bored you to death with yet another epic A/N, let's get to what you guys REALLY came here to read, shall we?**_

Kurt wasn't sure how long he stood there, gaping numbly at the cabin. It had to have been a few minutes, at least, before he was able to move his feet towards the structure. He shuffled forward, almost zombie-like in his shock. He hadn't realized until that very moment how resigned he really was, deep down, to never finding a sign of civilization. The cabin was small and crude, made of dark wood with an exposed stone chimney on one side and a sagging porch on the other. The roof was slightly sunken in. If Kurt had seen it in a horror movie, he'd have been convinced it was owned by a family of cannibalistic hillbillies, and that anyone going near its creepiness was kind of an idiot. But this wasn't a movie; this was all too real. And as such, the rough-hewn cabin was the most beautiful and inviting sight Kurt could have possibly imagined.

His steps quickened as he approached the porch and stepped onto the creaky floorboards. "Hello!" he called out. "Is anyone in there?" There was nothing but silence, so he tried again. "I need help, please. My friend and I, we're lost, and he's badly hurt." Still nothing. Kurt walked up to the door and knocked on it; when there was no response, he twisted the slightly rusty door handle and opened it.

The cabin was lit dimly by sunlight coming in through three small windows. It looked like the interior was all one big, open room. The contents seemed limited to a large fireplace, a rickety table with four chairs, a cot-sized bed with a mattress but no bedding, and a large wooden storage bin. Everything was covered with a thick layer of dust, and it was obvious Kurt was the first person to have stepped foot in the place in months. Kurt closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He wasn't going to find any people to help him, and there certainly wasn't a phone all the way out here, but it could be a lot worse. He and Dave would have a roof over their heads tonight for the first time since the crash, and Dave could rest his poor abused body on a mattress instead of the ground. Hoping he might find something useful in it, he made his way over to the storage bin and lifted the cover back on its hinges. His jaw dropped. _Oh my God, jackpot!_ With shaking hands, Kurt pawed through the contents, lifting them out. A couple of plates and cups, along with a small saucepan. A wickedly sharp-looking hunting knife with one serrated edge, stowed in a leather sheath. Four cans; Spaghettios, mini-ravioli, Chunky split-pea soup with ham, and chili. A few half-used candles. And at the very bottom, an item that made Kurt's heart leap with a hope that he hadn't felt since he and Dave had found the stream. A first-aid kit.

It was a good-sized kit, though it wasn't very heavy. He opened the latches and looked inside, finding a few band-aids, a roll of gauze, another one of tape, a small jar of petroleum jelly, two foil packets of Neosporin, and a large jar of Advil. Kurt knew the last two items were the most crucial; although Dave's infection obviously needed a lot more than what amounted to some dabs of antibiotic ointment, it had to be somewhat helpful. And he eagerly reached for the jar of Advil, knowing that it could help bring down Dave's fever. He was quite disappointed by the heft of the plastic bottle, though. Although it originally held 250 caplets, it was very light and he could hear only a faint, scattered rattling from inside. Unscrewing the childproof cap, he dumped the contents into his palm. There were only five pills left. Kurt sighed, but tried not to be discouraged. Five was a lot better than nothing, and all in all, finding the cabin was going to help their situation immensely.

Kurt stood, knowing that he needed to get Dave here as quickly as the other boy's condition would allow. He stashed the Advil in his messenger bag and left the cabin, looking up at the sun to try and gauge how long he'd been gone. He doubted it had taken him much more than an hour to stumble across the cabin, based on what he saw. He went down to the stream, hurrying along it back to the campsite as fast as he could. He started to run at one point, but tripped and nearly fell. After that, Kurt decided to settle for speed walking; the last thing they needed was for him to become injured as well. By busting his ass, Kurt made it back to the campsite in what seemed like about forty-five minutes or so. Dave was lying right where Kurt had left him, eyes closed and presumably asleep. He walked over quickly and sank to his knees beside Dave, shaking his good shoulder softly. "Dave?" he said. "Dave, wake up. I found something. Wake up, okay?"

Dave groaned and his eyes opened. He looked a little out of it, and blinked several times before speaking. "Kurt?" he rasped out. "What…how long have you been gone? I feel like I just fell asleep." He tried to stretch and groaned even louder. "Oh, Christ, I feel like shit on toast. Ugh."

"Can you sit up?" asked Kurt, his hand already going to the back of Dave's neck and pushing up gently.

"Yeah, sure," replied Dave. When he was upright, Kurt reached into the bag and pulled out the bottle of Advil. Dave stared at the bottle for a good minute, looked back up at Kurt's now smiling face, then back down at the bottle. "Where the hell did that come from?" he asked, disbelievingly.

"I found a cabin," Kurt said, shaking three of the pills into his hand and holding them out to Dave. "No people or phone, and its kinda run down. But there's provisions there; some food, candles, a knife…and a first aid kit." After Dave took the pills from him, he picked up the water bottle, unscrewing the cap and giving it to Dave.

Dave swallowed the Advil, still not entirely convinced this wasn't a fever-fueled dream. "How far?" he asked.

"It took me about an hour. We'll have to go slower together, and it's going to be rough on you, I know," replied Kurt. "But once we get there, you can lay down in an actual bed. Won't that feel great?"

"A bed, huh?" said Dave, raising an eyebrow, and giving a slightly more subdued version of his usual naughty grin.

"Now, now, Karofsky," Kurt said, half playful and half scolding. "I doubt you're in any condition for _that_. In fact, I'd have hardly jumped you this morning if I'd known you were so sick."

"Kinda glad I kept it to myself then," mumbled Dave. Kurt shot him a reproachful look, and he shrugged his good shoulder. "Sorry. I know I should have told you sooner. Not that it would have made much difference, but still. I'm sorry I hid it from you. I guess I just thought that maybe if I didn't say it out loud, it wouldn't be true." He laughed then, a little bitterly.

"What?" asked Kurt.

"Eh, I was just thinking…I'm good at that. Pretending something'll go away if I try not to think about it, or talk about it." He looked at Kurt, with a soft, vulnerable expression. "You know that better than anyone. I tried not to think about how I didn't like girls, not ever, like the other guys did. And I tried like hell to never think about how much I wanted to touch you like I have been the last couple of days, instead of hurting you. You think I'd have learned my lesson by now."

Kurt leaned in and kissed him. "I understand. But no more secrets, okay?"

"'kay," said Dave. "You wanna help me up so we can get going? I can't wait to see this place. Compared to sleeping outside, it sounds awesome."

Kurt helped Dave to his feet, holding the other boy up when he stumbled and almost fell back. He held him in place until he steadied, then let go. "Are you going to be able to walk that far?" Kurt asked seriously.

"Looks like I'm going to have to," said Dave, swaying slightly and wincing. He felt extremely lightheaded, and his arm was killing him. "It's not like you can carry me, Kurt. You may have gotten a lot bigger since sophomore year, but I've still got more than fifty pounds on you. And I can tell you've lost some weight just the last few days." He sighed at Kurt's worried expression. "Look, neither of us are in top shape at this point, by any stretch. I'll just have to do the best I can, and you'll do the same. We'll make it there. It's gonna suck, but we'll make it there."

Kurt nodded, threading his arm through Dave's good one. He wanted to make sure that he would be able to feel the minute that Dave was unsteady on his feet, and be there to catch him if he started to fall. Arm in arm, they made their way down to the stream and began to walk along it, going at about half of their usual speed. Dave needed to stop frequently for breaks, becoming winded very easily and needing to lean up against a tree or rock often to get his bearings back. On the good side though, his fever was definitely much lower; he was a lot less achy, had stopped shivering, and his skin was cooler to Kurt's touch. As they progressed, though, Dave began to need to lean on Kurt more and more. By the time they reached the clearing, nearly two hours later by the look of the sun, Kurt's support was literally the only thing keeping Dave on his feet.

They stopped for a moment. Kurt was breathing heavily too, as Dave was not exaggerating in the least about the disparity in their sizes. He gestured with the arm not holding Dave up. "Here we are. Home sweet home."

"You can skip the etiquette, Kurt," grunted Dave. The Advil had helped a little with the pain, but not much, and it was only sheer force of will keeping him from toppling over onto the smaller boy and crushing him. And not in the fun way, either. "Let's get in there so I can get my fat ass off of you and into that bed you were talking about."

He thought he heard Kurt murmur, "Not fat…" quietly, as he carefully guided Dave up the steps of the porch and into the cabin. They went immediately for the cot, and Kurt gently settled Dave onto it, lifting his feet from the floor and placing them on the mattress when it seemed that Dave didn't have the energy to make it happen himself. Kurt went over to the storage bin and took out the flannel shirt, folding it into a pillow, along with the first-aid kit, and brought both over to the cot. As quickly as he could, he unwrapped the pseudo-bandage made from his tank top, rinsed the wound again with water, applied both packets of Neosporin, and wrapped Dave's arm in a new bandage made of actual medical quality gauze and tape. Finally, he brought the robe over, covering Dave with it and setting him up as comfortable as possible. He felt like he'd done a pretty good job when Dave wiggled down into the mattress and sighed almost contentedly. He cupped Dave's cheek and looked at him fondly, and once again the temptation to tell Dave that he loved him was almost irresistible.

"What?" asked Dave, eyes a little cloudy but mostly lucid.

_I don't know how it happened and I don't care, but I am head over heels in love with you, David Karofsky,_ Kurt wanted to say. Instead, he said something equally true but less scary. "I'm so proud of you, Dave. I knew you could do it," he said.

"Thanks, Kurt," Dave said with a wan smile. "Hey, do you mind if I go back to sleep for a little bit? That walk sorta kicked my ass."

"Of course you can," said Kurt. "You sleep as long as you like. I'm going to go get some firewood, maybe explore around a little bit." He leaned over and kissed Dave softly. "Sweet dreams…" he stopped there, cutting off the "honey" that wanted to slip from his lips. _Wow, okay. That was weird._ Despite his innate romanticism, Kurt had never been much of one to toss off terms of endearment. He called Blaine by his name, or simply referred to him as his boyfriend. He rarely even gave people pithy nicknames when he was being bitchy, like Santana and Dave seemed to do so well and often. He supposed it was just part of that wall of formality he was used to putting up with most people, like dressing neatly and using proper vocabulary. This was the first time he'd ever so easily wanted to call someone by a pet name; but then again, Dave certainly did seem to be front and center with a lot of Kurt's firsts.

Grabbing the hunting knife and sticking it through the belt loops of his pants, Kurt made his way out of the cabin. He walked down the stream a bit further, but saw no more signs of humanity. He began to gather firewood in a manner he was getting frighteningly used to, bringing it up to the cabin but not taking it in yet, lest he wake Dave up. When he had enough, he sat on the porch and decided to try his phone again. This time, he got a flashing low battery indicator when it powered on, and expectedly, the same absence of bars that he was also getting frighteningly used to. He sighed, but tried not to get depressed. Dave was resting as comfortably as he could, and they were better off than they had been since the plane went down. Kurt was worried - terrified, actually - about Dave's arm, but it wasn't like freaking out about it was going to do anything.

Trying to distract himself, he began to hum a little. He realized that he hadn't sung in days, probably the longest he'd ever gone without doing so in memory. Moving away from the cabin, he started to work his way through the entire Wicked songbook (it wasn't everyone who could sing both Elphaba's and Fiyero's part). He continued on through Sunset Boulevard and Spring Awakening, and even indulged himself in a few songs from Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along-Blog. Transitioning to popular music, he sang the entire New Directions Nationals set, and a few of his favorite Natasha Bedingfield and Adele songs. He sang for over two hours, and felt much better for having done it. Smiling, he picked up the wood and began carrying it in. He wanted to build a fire so they could heat up the canned goods they'd found; he was getting hungry and figured Dave would be too when he woke up.

Dave awoke to the sound of dropping wood. His arm still hurt like hell, but other than that he actually felt pretty damn comfortable, comparatively speaking. The cot's mattress was fairly substantial, and he liked how the robe covering him smelled like the musky tang of the sex he and Kurt had shared together beneath it. Eyes still closed, he distracted himself from the pain by mentally reliving a few of his favorite moments from the night before. The best was when Kurt had been caressing Dave's balls, and slipped back further to stroke his perineum firmly. Upon discovering how much Dave had liked that, Kurt had grown even more bold, and traced further back until he was massaging the entrance to Dave's anus with two fingertips. Dave had kind of lost it a little at that point, babbling, "Oh God, oh fuck, _yeah_. Right there. Want them in me. Put 'em in me Kurt, _please_." Kurt had smiled devilishly in the orange light of the fire, and brought his fingers to his mouth as Dave whimpered from the loss of his touch. Kurt thrust his two fingers between his lips, sucking and licking them wetly. Jesus, Kurt was basically blowing his own fingers, and it was one of the hottest things Dave had ever seen. He slid them deep into his mouth until he choked on them a little, and Dave had nearly come on the spot thinking about Kurt gagging like that on his dick as he tried to deep throat it. Kurt pulled his fingers out, slick and shiny, and brought them back to Dave's hole, sliding one in first and then the other beside it. Dave moaned in both pleasure and discomfort at the tight, burning feeling, but kept urging Kurt to continue. It felt fan-fucking-tastic for a few minutes, but then the saliva dried up and the pleasure began to dissipate as well. When Kurt noticed that Dave was wincing more than groaning, he withdrew his fingers gently and grasped Dave's shaft instead. It only took a few brief tugs before he came powerfully, and it was after that that he'd given Kurt an extended, worshipful blow job.

"You're smiling."

Dave opened his eyes to see Kurt standing over him, arms folded and head tilted adorably. "Yeah, I woke up a few minutes ago. Just, uh…got lost in thought there for a while."

Kurt raised an eyebrow. "Must have been some good thoughts," he said, the corner of his mouth curling up. He looked down pointedly at the thick ridge of Dave's erection, outlined by the robe. "Really, Dave? As sick and injured as you are, you're still thinking about sex?"

Dave chuffed out a laugh. "Pretty sure I'd have to be dead before thinking about _you_ stopped making me hard," he said, enjoying Kurt's answering blush.

Kurt shook his head. "You are something else, you know that?" He looked over at the fireplace, then back at Dave. "Enough smut, you. I'm going to build a fire, and then we are going to enjoy a gourmet meal courtesy of Campbell's and Chef Boy-Ar-Dee." He ruffled his fingers through Dave's hair affectionately before he walked away.

Building the fire was easy. Getting the cans open, not so much. Kurt had to resort to stabbing at the can lid like a serial killer, the splatters of red on his face from the chili inside really helping the illusion along. Unappreciatively, he wondered who in the hell left eating utensils and canned goods behind, but took the frigging _can opener_ with them. The knife was really sharp and strong, though, and after a while he managed to hack away enough of the lid to get the contents into the pan. He set in on the fire to heat, then started jabbing at the lid of the Spaghettios. He licked some of the sauce off of his fingers and moaned in pleasure.

"You know, that's not going to make my mind any less dirty," said Dave from across the room.

"Sorry," said Kurt. "I'm just really hungry. And besides…" he trailed off, as if embarrassed.

"Besides what?" asked Dave. At Kurt's dry look, he said, "Hey, you're the one who said no more secrets, right?"

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Nicely played, sir," he replied, grinning. "I like high-end things, you know. Designer clothes, foreign films, epicurean food... love that stuff. But Spaghettios are my number one guilty pleasure. I know they're soft and bland and kinda gross, but I totally crave them from time to time. Maybe because my dad used to give them to me for lunch a lot when I was a kid."

"Well, you can have the whole can then, in that case," said Dave. "I think the chilli will do me just fine."

"Speaking of which," said Kurt, turning to stir the pot and lift it off the fire. "I think this is done." He dumped the chilli onto a plate and added a spoon. He brought it over to Dave and helped him sit up against the bedframe. Placing the chilli on Dave's lap, he lifted the empty pan in his hand. "I'm going to go rinse this out in the stream." He returned shortly to heat up his own dinner, pulling a chair up next to the bed so he could eat next to Dave.

When they had both emptied their plates, Kurt settled Dave back down onto the bed. "How are you feeling?" he asked, brushing his hand along Dave's cheek. It was getting warm again.

"I feel better having eaten," Dave replied. "But my arm feels like it's caught in a bear trap, and I think I'm getting the chills again."

"There's only two more Advil," said Kurt, quietly.

"I know."

"Do you want to take them now, or wait?" asked Kurt.

"Can I think about it for a minute?"

Kurt nodded, and took the dirty dishes out to the stream to clean them. The remaining two pills would probably knock back Dave's fever for a few more hours. But there was a choice to be made between continuing Dave's current level of comfort, or letting him feel worse in the short term to make the medicine last longer overall. It wasn't a decision Kurt felt like he could make for Dave; and even if he could, he wasn't sure which one seemed best to him anyway.

When he returned to the cabin, he could tell immediately that Dave had reached a decision. He had the same look of resolve as he had when he'd told Kurt not to return to the campsite. Kurt placed the dishes on the table and went over to the bed, sitting on the edge. He took Dave's good hand in both of his and kissed it.

"I want to take them now," said Dave. "I'm only just starting to feel shitty, and I think if I take them quick, I can be back to how I was feeling an hour ago fairly soon. And seeing as how bad off I am, that didn't feel too fucking awful, actually."

"Okay," said Kurt, going to grab the first aid kit. He brought it over to the bed, along with some water in a cup, and took out the pills. Dave swallowed them, and they both sat for a moment in quiet contemplation.

"When this dose wears off, Kurt, I'm going to get pretty bad, I think," said Dave. "I don't know a lot about infection, but tomorrow it'll be five days since the crash. I don't think it takes much longer than that for an infection to…get really bad," he finished, awkwardly.

Of course, the infection was already "really bad". Kurt didn't want to contemplate at the moment how bad _bad _could get. But he knew what Dave was getting at. As time progressed, Dave's condition would likely begin to deteriorate faster and faster. The difference between yesterday and today was huge; and the difference between tonight and tomorrow could possibly put Dave right at death's door. What were they going to do? Kurt put his face in his hands, despairing.

"Kurt?" said Dave.

"Yeah?" replied Kurt, sniffling a little.

"I don't want to waste the time we have left," said Dave. "Look at me." Kurt blinked back his tears and met Dave's eyes. They were calm, accepting. "I love you. I've loved you for a really long time. So much so, that if I had a choice between having you like this and then dying soon after, or living for another hundred years and never being with you, there'd be no contest. This has been the most terrible thing that's ever happened to me. But it's also been the best."

Tears welled in Kurt's eyes and fell down his cheeks, but he didn't close them or look away. He couldn't.

"I need you to do something for me, before I start to go downhill again," said Dave.

"Anything."

Dave reached into the first aid kit and pulled out the petroleum jelly. "I want you inside me. Not just your fingers this time. I want to know what it feels like to have your cock in me, Kurt."

Kurt stared, wondering how it was possible to have an instant erection and a broken heart at the same time. "Dave…" he croaked.

Dave pushed the small jar into his hand. "Please, Kurt. I know I shouldn't even ask. It's not how your first time should be either. But I think I've got a day or two left at most, and I'm feeling kind of selfish." He stroked Kurt's cheek, which by this point was nearly as stubbled as his own. "Make me yours. If I have to go, I need to do it knowing I belonged to you like that. Even if it was just the one time."

Kurt brought his lips to Dave's, tasting his own salty tears along with the now familiar, wonderful flavor of Dave's mouth. As their lips parted, he breathed his response softly. "Yes." Kurt rose from the bed, making his way over to the storage bin and grabbing the candles. It was only just starting to become dusk, but he wanted to make sure that he and Dave could see each other as much as possible. He lit them in the fire, then dribbled hot wax onto one of the plates to stick them securely in place. He brought the makeshift candelabra over to the chair he'd been sitting on, and set it on the seat. The bed and Dave were illuminated in a warm glow so much brighter than just the fireplace. He could clearly see the expression on Dave's handsome face; a mix of sadness, awe, fear, happiness, pain and love that made Kurt's breath catch in his throat. Slowly, never losing eye contact with Dave, Kurt slipped out of his clothes and came to sit next to him, completely at ease in his nudity.

Dave trailed his good hand down Kurt's chest, thumb grazing a nipple as it descended. "You're so beautiful," he said in a slightly choked voice. "The most perfect thing I've ever seen."

"No," said Kurt. "That's you." He slipped Dave's shirt off carefully, then tugged the robe away and removed his shorts as well. He looked at the bigger boy, letting everything he felt in his heart shine through his eyes. He brought his hand to Dave's erection, stroking it softly. "_You're_ beautiful, and perfect. Inside and out. I don't know how I ever missed seeing it." Dave's hand reached for Kurt's hardness, but he pushed it away gently. "Lie back for me, Dave, and open your legs," he said. "Let me take care of you."

Dave complied, shifting down and laying flat on his back. Kurt crawled between his spread thighs, putting his hands beneath Dave's knees and tugging upwards, encouraging him to bend them. He was nervous for the first time since they had become lovers, but he was determined that Dave would never know it. The last thing he wanted was Dave worrying about him. He wanted to give Dave exactly what he needed to make him feel safe and pleasured and…loved, the entire time. He looked between Dave's legs, smiling and speaking in a sultry tone. "There it is," he said, bringing one hand to Dave's ass. The other reached for Dave's cock and began to jerk him slowly again. Kurt brushed his fingers across Dave's hole, wringing a gasp from him. "That's what I want," he continued. "Are you going to let me in, Dave?"

"Oh, fuck _yeah_," moaned Dave. He could barely feel the pain in his arm anymore over the throbbing want ricocheting through his entire body. Jesus, Kurt was so hot when he talked like that, and combined with the touches on his dick and ass, Dave was already falling apart. "Want you in me so bad, Kurt."

Kurt took his hand away from Dave's ass and dipped his fingers into the petroleum jelly. Returning with a healthy scoop, he spread it over Dave's anus. The combined heat of his hand and Dave's ass melted it slightly, turning its gooey consistency into a slick lubricant. He slid one finger in slowly, thrusting it in and out before adding a second one. "Does it feel good, baby?" Kurt asked, the endearment coming to his lips easily. "Do you like me fingering your tight ass like this?"

"Oh God, yes," groaned Dave. "It feels fucking fantastic. Your fingers…guh…they're so _long_. I want more, give me more," he begged.

Kurt slid a third finger in, and Dave cried out at the stretch. After a quick check of Dave's face, which held nothing but pleasure, Kurt pumped the three digits into his ass a little faster, in time with the pulls on Dave's cock. "Look at you," he said, his voice becoming gravely with desire. "Look how you take my fingers so well." He started to wiggle and scissor them inside Dave, widening him. "I'll be able to slide my whole cock into you easily. It'll feel so good, Dave. I can't wait to be inside you."

"Yes, please…" Dave moaned.

Despite both his and Dave's eagerness, Kurt held off. He wanted to make sure Dave was as loose as possible; Kurt wasn't exactly huge, but his dick was a lot bigger than three of his slender fingers. After a while though, he could feel that Dave's passage had relaxed completely. He slid his fingers out, resulting in a cry of disappointment from Dave. "Shhhh," Kurt soothed. "It's okay. I'm not going anywhere. Look at me, Dave." Dave met his eyes, and Kurt reached for the petroleum jelly again. This time he slathered the ointment onto his own cock, hissing at the feel of his fist spreading the lube all over his hardness. God, he was so ready. And Dave was too, so he figured there was little reason to wait any longer. He crawled up Dave's body, kissing him deeply and letting his slickened cock fall against Dave's. He nudged at Dave's bad shoulder delicately. "Roll over onto your good side. I think that'll be best."

Dave did so, and Kurt arranged himself behind Dave, spooning him and resting his erection in the crack of Dave's ass. He brought his hand to Dave's thigh and urged him to raise it slightly, parting the muscular buttocks. Kurt grabbed his prick, bringing it to Dave's exposed entrance. When he had it there he paused, placing a hand on Dave's hip. "Are you ready for me to come in?" he asked.

Dave's hips pushed back instinctively, pressing the head of Kurt's cock against him. "Yes, do it," he said. The pleasure and excitement had him mindless; he could barely remember where they even were right now. "Make me yours. Want to be yours forever," he groaned.

Kurt pushed against the ring of muscle, finding little resistance. After just a few gentle thrusts, the head of his dick breached Dave and they both keened loudly. Kurt waited a moment for them both to get their bearings, emotionally and physically. He reached his hand further over Dave's hip, grasping his erection firmly. "Are you okay? Do you want more?" Kurt asked.

"Yesssssss," said Dave, rapturously. The feel of Kurt inside him, being one with him was even more incredible that Dave could have ever imagined. "All of you, want it all in me. Take me…_fuck_ _me_, Kurt."

Kurt's hips responded, jerking forward almost without thought. He began to press in and withdraw gradually, building up speed and force until he was buried balls deep inside Dave. He paused a moment, taking his hand off of Dave's cock and reaching for his face. Dave craned his head back so he and Kurt could kiss wetly, and Kurt began to pump his hips again a little more forcefully. Dave broke off the kiss, moaning, "Ohhhhhh…fuuuuuuuck."

Kurt released Dave's face so he could turn back around, never ceasing the movement of his hips or hand. The tightness and warmth of Dave's channel flexing around his cock was like nothing Kurt had ever felt before. He knew he could come at any moment if he let go completely, but he gritted his teeth and held back, wanting Dave to come first. Based on the way Dave was groaning, he doubted he'd have to wait too long. Still, he increased the pressure and speed on Dave's prick, urging him towards completion. After several minutes, Dave's voice went up slightly in pitch. "Oh God, Kurt," he cried. "Oh God oh God oh _God_, I'm gonna…gonna…unnnnnnnnnnnnhhhhhhhhhh!"

Kurt felt Dave's cock jump in his hand, then felt the familiar warmth flowing over it as Dave orgasmed. He kept thrusting, but hitched himself up a little further so he could watch Dave's face. The combination of Dave's euphoric expression and the tightening on his cock had the words spilling out of Kurt before he could stop them. "Oh, baby, I love it when you come for me. I love it, love it…love you!" He began to pound into Dave's ass harder and faster. "I love you, I love you, love you so fucking much Dave I-" Kurt broke off, his own orgasm rushing over him without warning. Grunting, he emptied himself into Dave's ass, his balls aching from the sudden hot rush.

Panting heavily, they both lay for a few moments without speaking or otherwise moving. Then Kurt gently withdrew his softened cock from Dave, kissing his shoulder. Dave rolled onto his back, and Kurt cuddled into his chest. He felt a kiss on top of his head before Dave spoke drowsily. "Love you too, Kurt." There was more they both wanted to say, but before they knew it, they both drifted off to sleep easily.

Kurt awoke some time later, not sure what had stirred his sleep. The earliest rays of dawn were making their way into the cabin. He realized that what had woken him was the odd fact that the bed was shaking, so hard that the springs were squeaking. His first thought was that it was an earthquake, but then he recognized that it wasn't so much the bed that was shaking, but the body of the person he was lying on. He sprung up into a sitting position and looked at Dave, who appeared to still be asleep despite the tremors that wracked his body. At first Kurt was terrified that Dave was having a seizure, but as he felt the heat radiate from Dave's frame, he knew that instead the fever was back with a vengeance. He shook Dave's uninjured shoulder. "Dave? Can you hear me?" he asked shakily.

Dave's eyes opened, though they were glassy and didn't seem to focus quite right. "Kuuuurt?" he slurred out.

Kurt's heart plummeted. Trying to be calm, he cupped Dave's cheek. "Yes, honey, it's me," he said. "How do you feel?"

"Not so good," said Dave. He seemed barely with it, not at all like he had been the night before. "Hurts…my arm. It hurts. And I'm so cold. Why's it so cold in here?"

The cabin, of course, wasn't cold at all. The temperature was mild, a little warm even. But Dave was cold, and Kurt felt like his spine was made of ice. He climbed out of bed, slipping into his clothes quickly. Then just as rapidly, he re-dressed Dave, and covered him with the abandoned robe. Crawling back into the bed, he wrapped himself around Dave and tried to transfer as much of his body heat as he could to the larger boy. Dave continued to shake, though he slipped back into sleep. _Or maybe unconsciousness is a more accurate term_, Kurt thought despondently.

As the morning progressed, Kurt clung to Dave, trying to soothe his tremors and occasional painful moans with gentle words and touches. But as the hours passed, Kurt knew that nothing was going to help Dave; at least, nothing he could provide. He wept off and on, not even thinking about his own needs for food or water. Finally, though, his bladder protested and Kurt was forced to get up and leave the cabin to go to relieve himself. When he was done, he hesitated before going back into the cabin. He decided to try his phone again, but this time it refused to power on at all. Even if there was a signal, the phone was dead. _Just like Dave will be soon_, his brain supplied unhelpfully, and Kurt cried out in anguish at the thought. He flung the phone into the trees, then sunk to his knees and bawled uncontrollably for an unknown amount of time.

Finally all cried out, eyes burning and head aching, he tapered off into sniffles and then silence. He didn't know what to do next. He would stay with Dave until the end, that was for sure. Make sure he was as comfortable as possible, and keep telling him how much he loved and needed him, even though Dave was likely beyond hearing at this point. But what about when it was over? Could he just leave what was left of Dave, and try to find his way out of the woods? He couldn't bury him; there was no shovel or anything to dig with, and even if there was, Kurt didn't think he could possibly survive putting Dave into the ground and covering his beautiful, beloved body with dirt. But the thought of just leaving him so still and silent on the bed they had made love in was equally horrifying and wrong. The only thing that felt right to Kurt at the moment was the thought of the sharp hunting knife. A couple of quick flicks, and the nightmare would be over. He'd never believed in an afterlife, but considering the circumstances, he hoped the universe might surprise him. Maybe he could find Dave again, on the other side. And even if not, at least there would be no more pain. No more living without the boy he had come to love in such a deceptively short period of time.

Kurt was just about to get up and go back into the cabin to check on Dave when he heard it. A rustling in the underbrush, drawing nearer. Kurt stared numbly in the direction of the noise, expecting a bear, or a wolf, or anything really that would hopefully kill him and put him out of his absolute misery. _But then Dave will die alone, without anyone to hold him when he goes_. The thought chilled him, and he stood up, unconsciously taking on a defensive position. He saw a shape coming towards him, and began to acknowledge slowly that it was a decidedly human-looking shape. There was more noise, and then a person stumbled into the clearing. Kurt was once again sure he must be hallucinating, because the person was familiar. _I'm not starving or dehydrated, but maybe I've gone crazy with grief_, he thought. Because standing before him, gawking unbelievably, was his step-brother. Finn Hudson.

"Kurt?" said Finn. "Oh, holy shit. Is that really you, dude?"

Kurt's mouth opened, but nothing came out. He took in Finn's rugged outerwear; a plaid flannel, sturdy jeans, big clunky hiking boots. And a walkie-talkie, hanging on his hip.

Finn came closer, then rushed at Kurt, throwing his arms around him. "We found you!" he shouted. "I can't believe it, we found you!" He released Kurt from his embrace, but kept his hands on his shoulders, grinning.

Kurt thought he might faint dead away. It seemed so real, but it must be a dream. How else could Finn be here? Before he could voice the question, Finn took one hand away and grabbed the walkie-talkie off his hip, pressing a button and shouting that he'd found Kurt. Soon there were more crashing noises, and Kurt was stunned to see several people come out of the woods, dressed similarly as Finn. Eyes blurry, he recognized one of them as his dad. And moving in as well, close to Burt's side, was Paul Karofsky. The sight of Dave's dad spurred Kurt into movement; he turned and ran back into the cabin, not even hearing the shouts of protest behind him.

He ran over to the bed and threw himself on Dave's still body. "They're here," he sobbed, feeling Dave's labored breaths beneath him. "They found us. They're here, baby." He heard footsteps behind him, but barely acknowledged them. "It's going to be okay now. We're rescued, and it'll all be okay. Can you hear me, honey?" he asked tearfully.

Kurt felt gentle hands pulling him back, murmuring soft words of comfort. Realizing that he no longer had to be strong, or hold it together, Kurt gave in to his body and mind's desire to escape. He went limp into a faint. He heard someone shout, "This one's alive too. Someone call for the Medevac Chopper!" then gave himself up to blissful unconsciousness.

_**Sorry once again for the long wait on this one! I sure hope it was worth it. There's one more chapter left, covering the aftermath of everything I've put Kurt and Dave through once they return to civilization. As usual, reviews are so greatly appreciated!**_


	8. Chapter 8

_**This fic has officially blown past Cry For Deliverance, garnering the most reviews of anything I've even written. The fact that there are so many people who care about my story, and the journey that I've taken Kurt and Dave on is just…completely wonderful, overwhelming, and what gets me through the day more often than not. So much love to all of you, for supporting me and my creative efforts. There have been a lot of challenges writing something so out of my normal wheelhouse, but there's never been a time when writing it didn't feel all kinds of awesome. And most of that was from knowing how much you all were looking forward to reading the next installment.**_

_**So, you want to know how it ends? Well, who am I to put it off any longer? XD**_

A month later, Kurt Hummel sat at his vanity, staring at the jars and tubes scattered upon it. Thirty days; exactly six times as long as he and Dave had been lost. Kurt wasn't sure how a longer expanse of time like that could seem like a tiny blip compared to how long they'd spent wandering in the forest, but the calendar and clock didn't lie. It sure felt like they were lying, though. Kurt was sure he'd aged at least a year during the desperate fight for survival.

The boys had been air lifted to Lock Haven Hospital, about 60 miles from Sproul State Forest in Pennsylvania, where their plane had gone down. Lying on a stretcher next to Dave, he'd reached for the other boy's hand, but couldn't make contact since Dave was unconscious and couldn't reach back. One of the paramedics noticed Kurt's straining hand and tear-streaked face, and lifted Dave's limp hand into Kurt's. The flight took barely ten minutes, and Kurt clung to Dave's hand the entire time. Once they landed though, the boys were whisked away to opposite parts of the hospital.

Kurt was checked over and found to have no injuries, though he was obviously malnourished and suffering from extreme exhaustion. He was admitted to a room and hooked up to an IV immediately; shortly after that his dad, Finn and Dave's dad arrived. Paul was informed that his son had been taken into surgery, and that the prognosis wasn't very good. The staff thought that they could get Dave's fever under control, and luckily it hadn't gotten quite high enough that brain damage was a risk. But the real issue was Dave's arm; the infection had caused the death of a significant amount of skin and muscle tissue. Necrosis, the doctors called it. At the very least, Dave would have to undergo a procedure called debridement, where the dead tissue would be cut away and removed completely. But if they found that the infection had reached the bone, Dave's arm would have to be amputated. Dave's dad put his face in his hands at the news, and Burt went over to put a supportive hand on his shoulder. Kurt began sobbing brokenly, so Finn sat on the side of his bed and gathered him into a hug.

Burt and Paul went to the waiting area of the surgical ward to call their respective wives and wait out Dave's surgery. Burt promised to come back and let Kurt know the minute Dave was out of the OR and in recovery. Finn gently encouraged Kurt to get some sleep, but Kurt knew there was no way he was doing so until he knew Dave was out of surgery. He asked Finn instead to tell him how they had found them, and what had been happening while he and Dave were lost. Welcoming the distraction himself, Finn launched into the tale.

When Burt and Carole had found Kurt's note Friday morning, they'd been quite upset. Burt had called Paul, who was shocked that Kurt hadn't gotten permission from his parents to fly with his brother. He assured them that Dave's uncle was a very safe pilot, and would certainly get the boys to New York just fine. They both tried calling their son's cell phones, but got no answer. Paul called his brother and also got no answer, but left a message. Calls to Mr. Schuster in New York ascertained that the boys had not yet arrived at the hotel where New Directions was staying. The families decided to sit tight for a while, not knowing exactly when the boys had actually flown out, or how long the flight would last. When they hadn't heard anything by noon, however, they called the FAA to see if they had any information. Their worry escalated when they were told that the only flight plan filed by Donald Karofsky for that day was a trip from Lima to South Bend, IN, at eight am that morning. At around two pm, Dave's uncle finally called back; he had unfortunately forgotten to turn his cell phone's ringer back on after his flight and had just gotten Paul's message. He told them that it was in fact his friend Jake who had taken the boys to New York, and that something was definitely up; they should have arrived hours ago. Another call to the FAA was placed, and this time they were able to find the flight plan filed by Jake Marshall. The flight covered more than five hundred miles, in a near straight line through Ohio, across the entire state of Pennsylvania, and into New York State. By this time it was around dinner time, and neither family had heard from their sons. Burt called Blaine to see if he'd heard from Kurt, but Blaine hadn't even known that Kurt and Dave had been kicked off their original flight the day before. By that evening, there was still no sign of the boys in New York, or Jake's plane at La Guardia. It was as if they had simply vanished, and the FAA informed the families that an investigation would begin first thing in the morning. The Hummels and the Karofskys spent a sleepless night, praying for either of the boys or even Jake to call with some sort of explanation. The members of New Directions and Mr. Schuester spent their evening in New York likewise, their excitement about Nationals evaporated now that they knew there was a real possibility that something bad had happened to Kurt and Dave.

Saturday was a blur for their family and friends. New Directions did perform, mostly because they knew if Kurt and Dave did show up, they'd have headed straight for the theater. Of course they didn't show, and their friends didn't really have their hearts or minds in the performance at all. They came in seventeenth, out of twenty competitors, and really couldn't find it in them to care at all. They were scheduled to have spent the entire weekend in New York, but under the circumstances, they got their flight switched and flew home that afternoon. Neither the Karofsky nor Hummel houses were ever empty from that point forward; there were always members of New Directions there, along with Mr. Scheuster, Ms. Pillsbury, and Coach Bieste. Even some of Dave's friends from the football team showed up, including Azimio, who had been vaguely estranged from Dave since his teammate's coming out. Blaine had come to Lima as soon as he'd hung up with Burt the previous day, and had no intention of going back to Westerville until Kurt had been found. He spent both Friday and Saturday nights in Kurt's bed, crying himself to sleep pitifully as he breathed in his missing boyfriend's scent on the bedding.

By the time Sunday came around, and there was still no word, worry passed into paralyzing fear for their family and friends. Finn described how all of the girls and not just a few of the boys had broken down in tears that day. Puck, in fact, had succumbed to a hysterical fit of weeping, bawling into Lauren's chest as she held him close. Everyone just sat around, holding hands, crying and praying as hard as they could. Kurt felt shame, hearing about how terribly his loved ones had suffered, while miles away he and Dave had been ejaculating all over each other in the dirt like a couple of savages. Late Sunday night, their families got the call that they had both been praying for, and wished would never come. The crash site had been located, and although it was too late to send out a search party that night, one would be dispatched at the first light of dawn. They were told that any able-bodied family members or friends who wanted to join the search party could, so Paul called his brother and arranged for himself, Finn and Burt to fly out that night to the William T. Piper Memorial Airport in Lock Haven. Blaine wanted to come, desperately, but Burt had begged him to stay behind and take care of Carole for him. After they arrived at the airport, the four men drove to the ranger station closest to the crash site, and spent an uncomfortable and sleepless night in sleeping bags on the floor. As soon as the sun was up Monday morning, the search party left, hiking first to the scene of the crash.

Finn had become choked up at that part of the story, having to stop a couple of times to wipe away tears and blow his nose. He described how they had found Jake's body, and were so sure that Dave and Kurt's would be next. Initially they were encouraged by the fact that neither boy's remains were found near the plane, and also that their suitcases seemed to be missing from the aircraft. But then they had hiked a little further, and found the area where Kurt had performed the emergency removal of the debris from Dave's arm. The huge pool of blood was still there, albeit mostly sunk into the earth and completely dried. The worst part, according to Finn, was when Burt walked over to the pile of clothes Kurt and Dave had left behind. He picked up his son's graphic tee, staring with horror at the blood-drenched fabric, and fell to his knees crying. He'd been so upset, Finn was convinced he was going to have another heart attack, right then and there. _And all while this was happening, you had a smile on your face and Dave's come down your throat_, thought Kurt guiltily. _Way to go, Kurt. At least __**someone**__ was having a good time._

The search party spread out, not knowing what direction the boys had gone in. Burt, Finn and Paul had gone east with a few other searchers, and managed to keep to what was apparently a very similar path as the one the boys had taken. Along the way they kept finding evidence that one or both boys had been there. They found the pine branch lean-to where Dave had sung Kurt to sleep, and the remains of their fire. When they came across the stream, they broke into two parties; one kept going east, and the other followed the stream as the boys had done. As it was getting dark, they came to the site where Kurt and Dave had spent the night making love, and decided to camp there until the next morning. They found Dave's discarded bandage the next morning, and took it as another sign that one or both boys were still alive. And about an hour after leaving the campsite, Finn had finally found Kurt at the abandoned hunting cabin.

After relaying his side of events, Finn asked Kurt if he wanted to talk about what had happened to him and Dave. Kurt could see the confusion and curiosity on Finn's face, and realized that Finn, Burt and Paul had most likely heard him calling Dave "honey" at the cabin. Kurt shook his head; he just couldn't talk to Finn about any of it. It was too fresh; too raw and overwhelming. So Finn just smiled understandingly and held Kurt's hand, waiting with him silently. After a few hours, Burt returned and took Finn's place on the bed next to Kurt. Putting his hand on Kurt's shoulder, he told him that it had been very close, but the doctors had decided not to amputate Dave's arm. Another day and they would have had to for sure; another day after that, and Dave would have certainly died. But instead they went with the debridement only. It was still very serious, however - the doctors had to remove a great deal of Dave's bicep and tricep, and even a portion of his shoulder's deltoid muscle to remove all of the infection and dead tissue. It would take months of physical therapy before Dave would regain the use of his arm, and even then, it would never be the same. Dave would be permanently disfigured; although plastic surgery, if he chose to have it, could help with that in the future. He would certainly never play football or any other sport seriously again, but he would eventually be able to function almost normally in his day-to-day life. Luckily, Dave was left-handed, so at least he wouldn't have to re-learn how to make it his dominant hand. Kurt had already known that Dave was a lefty; they had joked about it, with Dave saying how happy he was to at least have the use of his good hand to jerk Kurt off with. Kurt closed his eyes, once again distressed by the colliding of his and Dave's private world, with the very real one that they'd been returned to.

Kurt was able to leave the hospital and fly home the next day after a night of observation. Dave would likely spend the entire week in Pennsylvania, and fly home with his dad and uncle the next Tuesday if all went well with his recovery. Kurt went to Dave's room to say goodbye before he left; Paul vacated, giving the two boys privacy. Dave was pale and silent, lying against the crisp sheets of the hospital bed. He had dark circles under his eyes, and his arm and shoulder were engulfed in an enormous white bandage. Kurt moved to sit on the edge of Dave's bed, taking his hand. Kurt didn't know what to make of Dave's shuttered expression, and for the first time in days, had no idea what the other boy was thinking. He was about to say something - _anything_ - when Dave spoke in a quiet, almost detached voice.

"I just want you to know, Kurt, that I don't expect anything from you," he said. Kurt stared at him, not having expected this at all. "I won't hold you to anything that you said, or that we did. I meant all of it, and I think you did too. But things were different then. We made it out, and it's not just the two of us anymore. We have to think about our families now, and our friends. And you have to think about Blaine, too." Kurt felt tears rise to his eyes, nodding. It hurt like hell, but he knew Dave was right. They were back in the real world, and it was time for Kurt to deal with the consequences of the decisions he'd made while he was gone. "My arm is really messed up," Dave said. "It's going to change the plans I had for rest of my life, and I think I need some time alone to deal with that, too. So maybe it's good that I'm going to be here another week, while you go home."

"I'll call you when you get back to Lima?" said Kurt. He hadn't meant for it to come out as a question, but it did.

"We should play it by ear, I think. Let's see how we both feel then, okay? You can call if you want to, but I promise I won't be upset if you don't."

Kurt had swallowed the lump in his throat, and got up from the bed. Bending, he brushed a light kiss on Dave's forehead. "Okay. Goodbye, Dave," he said.

"Bye, Kurt. And thank you again, for saving my life." Kurt saw a spark of emotion in Dave's eyes for the first time since he'd walked into the room. "And for taking care of me. I'll never forget it."

So Kurt returned home with Finn and Burt. All of his friends wanted to come see him, but he asked his Dad to have them hold off for a day or so. He'd been isolated for so long, he didn't really feel up to having a lot of faces or voices to deal with right away. Burt asked if he wanted Blaine to go back to Westerville before they arrived, but Kurt said no. He needed to see Blaine, and knew that Blaine needed to see him too. Carole was allowed several uninterrupted minutes to cry and gush over her stepson, then she stepped aside so Blaine could have his turn. Kurt started to tear up when he saw his boyfriend; Blaine was a mess, with unruly hair, circles under his eyes, and wearing clothes that looked like they'd been slept in. It was obvious he'd been horribly worried about Kurt, and the guilt stabbed at him painfully. Burt gently suggested that maybe he and Blaine should go up to Kurt's room for a while, and that was when Kurt knew that his dad had pretty much figured out what had happened between him and Dave.

They sat at the bottom of the bed, hugging and crying for a while. But then Blaine took Kurt's face in his hands and kissed him on the lips, and Kurt started to feel uncomfortable. Blaine didn't pick up on it; he was so immensely relieved and happy to have his boyfriend back in his arms, and he tried to deepen the kiss. As soon as he felt Blaine's tongue touch his bottom lip, Kurt pulled away and got off the bed. Blaine looked at him, totally hurt and confused, and Kurt didn't blame him at all. "Blaine, I need to tell you something," he said shakily. Blaine's hurt expression turned sympathetic and concerned, and Kurt had nearly collapsed under the weight of what he was about to do to this boy, who obviously cared for him deeply. He thought about working his way up to it gradually, but didn't think he could manage it. He needed to confess, and Blaine needed to hear the truth without Kurt trying to justify his actions.

"When Dave and I were in the woods together, we got…close," he started.

"What do you mean, close?" asked Blaine, in a voice that suggested this couldn't possibly be going where it sounded like it was going.

"Really close," replied Kurt, heart racing and tears coming to his eyes again. It seemed like all he'd done since the crash was cry, and he was getting really tired of it. "We did…stuff. Me to him, and him to me. We were together, Blaine."

"You mean, you kissed him? Made out with him?" asked Blaine. He looked sad and disappointed, and not just a little disgusted.

Kurt wanted to die, knowing that Blaine couldn't even conceive of the things he'd done with Dave. How could he? Kurt hadn't done any of them with his boyfriend, after all, and they'd been dating for three whole months. How could he tell him what he'd participated in, after less than a week with Dave? _You knew there would be consequences, and you said you didn't care. Time to pay the piper, Kurt._ "Yeah, uh, that. But a lot more than that, really. We…" Kurt had to pause, his breath hitching in a sob. He couldn't even look at Blaine when he said it, even though he knew it was cowardly. "We had sex, Blaine."

"What?" gasped Blaine, sounding shocked. Kurt looked up, and the devastation on his boyfriend's face almost made him wish he'd never made it home. "What are you _talking_ about? You were only gone five days, Kurt!"

"I know," Kurt sobbed. Regret poured through him; this was even more painful than he'd expected. "And I'm sorry. I'm so, _so _sorry I cheated on you like that. I could try to explain about how isolated we were, and how we really, really thought we were going to die out there. But it doesn't matter. I could never make you understand what it was like for us. And even if I could, I don't deserve your understanding."

"Understand?" said Blaine loudly, his voice rising to a shout. Kurt cringed, knowing that his family could probably hear everything. "I'm supposed to understand…what? That I've never even taken your shirt off, or rubbed you through your pants, but you _fucked_ Dave Karofsky?" Kurt nodded, nose running and tears streaming down his face. Blaine was so angry, but Kurt knew he deserved whatever Blaine had to say, so he stood there and listened instead of running from the room like he so badly wanted to. "Do you know what we've been through here?" yelled Blaine. "Me, and your family, and your friends? Hardly eating or sleeping, and living on tears and prayers! And the whole time you're…" Blaine threw out his hands, as if grasping for words. "You're doing what? Sucking Dave's dick? Letting him suck yours? Did you let him touch your ass, Kurt?" Blaine marched up to him, absolutely furious, and grabbed Kurt by the front of his shirt. "Did he put his fingers in you? Did he put his _cock_ in you?"

Kurt shook his head. "No," he said quietly. "But I put mine in him."

Blaine's eyes went wide, and for a moment, Kurt was sure his boyfriend was going to hit him. Instead, he shoved Kurt away, stumbling back a few steps. "You fucking _bitch_!" he said, hatefully.

"That's enough!" Burt's voice came loudly from the doorway to Kurt's bedroom. "Blaine, I know you're upset, but you can't talk to my son like that. You need to leave, now."

Blaine looked at Burt, and the anger drained away to sorrow in an instant. His eyes welled with tears, his expression clearly showing how betrayed and completely destroyed he was by his boyfriend's infidelity. "That's fine with me," he choked out. "I can't even _look_ at you anymore, Kurt. It makes me _sick_. Don't call me, ever!" With that, he took off out of Kurt's room, and they heard the front door slam loudly a moment later. Kurt dissolved into harsh, gasping sobs, and his dad gathered him into his arms, letting him cry it all out.

Over the next week, Kurt's friends came over in small groups, bringing flowers, gossip, and other treats to cheer him. It took a little while, but slowly Kurt warmed up, and by the end of the visits was smiling and even laughing a little. He told his dad that he thought he would be ready to go back to school that Monday, even. He started thinking about his wardrobe again, and got back into his daily skincare regime. School went well on Monday, and on Tuesday evening, Burt got a call from Paul letting him know that he and Dave had arrived home. Burt relayed this information to Kurt, who didn't really know what to do with it. Should he call Dave tonight? Go over to his house? Maybe, despite what he said in the hospital, Dave might call him? Undecided, Kurt picked at his dinner that night and went to bed early, tossing and turning most of the night.

When he woke up the next morning, he decided he'd call Dave after school. Finn was going over to Quinn's, and Burt and Carole would still be at work, so he'd have some privacy. Fingers shaking, Kurt dialed the Karofsky's home number. It was still on the refrigerator, stuck on with a sushi-shaped magnet, from when the families had been in constant contact while their sons were missing. Dave's mom answered, and took a moment to thank Kurt for everything he'd done for her son, before telling him she was bringing the phone up to Dave's room. Kurt could hear Dave and his mom murmuring to each other, and he held his breath without even realizing he was doing it. Then suddenly, Dave's voice was on the other end of the line. "Hey, Kurt," he said in a completely neutral tone.

Kurt exhaled in a rush. "Hi," he said, wincing at how eager and breathy he sounded. He tried to tone it down. "How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Not too bad," Dave replied. My arm and shoulder hurt a lot, but they've got me on Vicodin. It's pretty good stuff."

"I'm glad," said Kurt. The conversation trailed off awkwardly, with neither boy saying anything for a minute or so. Taking a deep breath, Kurt tried again. "Do you know if you're coming back to school this year?" There were only five weeks left in the semester after that one.

"I'm not sure. The doctors say I just need to take it a day at a time, and not overdo it. I'll have to decide as we go along, I think."

"That sounds smart," said Kurt. The stilted conversation was killing him. Was this really the same boy who had declared his love for Kurt, and who had brought him to heights of pleasure Kurt didn't even know existed? Kurt cut to the chase. "Can I come over sometime this week?" he asked.

"What for?" Dave asked simply, and Kurt's heart dropped into his stomach.

"What do you mean, what for?" he replied. "So we can talk to each other. Spend time together."

"I don't know if that's such a good idea," said Dave.

"Why?" said Kurt, hating how needy and shrill his voice suddenly sounded. "If it's because of Blaine, you don't have to worry about that. We broke up the night I got home. I told him everything, and he walked."

"I'm sorry," said Dave mildly.

"You are?" Kurt asked. Until that moment, he hadn't realized that he'd expected Dave to take the update on his relationship with Blaine as anything but the greatest of news.

"Yeah, sure. You guys were really good together. I'm sorry he couldn't forgive you."

Kurt couldn't believe it. The hurt crawled up his chest into his throat, threatening to suffocate him. "Why are you being like this?" he whispered brokenly into the phone. "I thought we had something together. You said…you said you loved me. That you'd loved me for a long time."

There was a long pause, then Kurt heard Dave sigh heavily. "We both said a lot of things, Kurt. Things that would have never been said, if we hadn't crashed. I've been thinking about it a lot, you know. And it just seems to me like that time we spent together was…separate, from where we are now. Like it happened in an alternate universe or something. Don't get me wrong - it was good there, and real. But now that we're home, I don't know how to make it fit into this reality. We probably shouldn't try."

Kurt's eyes burned with tears, and his chest ached. He felt completely gutted by Dave's disinterest. He knew it was pathetic, but he had to keep trying. "But Dave," he said, voice trembling. "We made love to each other. We took each other's _virginity_. How can that be so worthless to you?"

He heard Dave clear his throat, and when his voice returned, it was shaky as well. "It's not, Kurt. I swear. It was worth everything to me. But it's over now. You have to see that."

"I told you I loved you," said Kurt, tearfully. "I've never said that before, not to another boy."

"I know," said Dave. "And I'll remember it forever, I promise. But things were different then. You thought I was going to die. And let's face it, you were coming when you said it. I'm not sure that we should be attaching too much meaning to something you said under those circumstances."

Suddenly, anger pushed past the hurt, and Kurt felt his entire body flush with it. How dare Dave claim his declaration of love was _meaningless_? "Fuck you, Karofsky," he hissed into the phone, ending the call abruptly. It had been the last communication between the two boys.

Today was thirty days since they'd been rescued. And today, Dave was coming back to school to finish out the last two weeks of the semester. Breathing deeply, Kurt applied his moisturizer and styled his hair carefully. He slipped into the outfit he'd selected the night before; a form-fitting green, black and red plaid shirt with studded shoulders and cuffs, tucked into black ultra-skinny chinos. He topped it the ensemble off with Marc Jacobs black and burgundy lace up boots, and a vintage double-prong leather belt. He knew he looked hot, and he hoped Dave Karofsky ate his heart out when he saw every inch of his fabulousness. Let him see what he'd thrown away so carelessly; he wanted Dave to _drool _when he saw him. Kurt Hummel was a badass, Dave had said it himself. And there was no better day than today to start acting like one.

Kurt's swagger and confidence lasted until he saw Dave standing at his locker, bandaged arm cradled in a blue and white sling. He stopped dead, feeling the occasional brushes against him as the other students hurried past his still frame. He felt like running to Dave, running away from him, and throwing up all at the same time. Dave was fiddling with the lock, trying to get it open with just one hand, and hadn't noticed Kurt at all. Kurt took advantage, taking a moment to get his self-assurance back. Throwing back his shoulders, he walked over to Dave, leaning against the wall of lockers and plastering one of his most charming smiles on his face. "Morning, Dave," he said breezily, as if he hadn't been waiting desperately for this moment since they had both returned to Lima. "Welcome back."

Dave looked over at him in surprise, a genuine smile blooming on his lips. "Hey, Kurt," he responded. "Thanks."

Kurt was pleased to see Dave's eyes roam all over him, like a starving man would eye a triple-decker club sandwich. Kurt brought his hand to the top button of his shirt, toying with it and enjoying how Dave's eyes zeroed in on the movement and darkened. Kurt licked his lips, determined to be as nonchalant as possible. The bell rang, and he raised an eyebrow. "I guess that's our signal," Kurt said airily. "Have a nice day, Dave. See you at glee." He walked away, putting a sway in his hips that Naomi Campbell would have found entirely worthy. It took all of his effort not to look back and see if Dave was enjoying the show.

The day crawled along slowly. Kurt didn't have any classes with Dave this semester, only glee for his free period at the end of the day. Finally, two-thirty rolled around and Kurt sashayed into the choir room, filled with what his dad would call "piss and vinegar". He knew what he wanted to sing today; a perfectly diva-liscious rendition of _Over It_ by Katharine McPhee. He even knew exactly the look he wanted to shoot Dave as he sang the chorus; Gaga knew he'd practiced it in his mirror enough times since finding out that Dave was returning to school that day.

_Wanting you to be wanting me  
No, that ain't no way to be  
How I feel, read my lips because I'm so over…  
Moving on, it's my time  
You never were a friend of mine.  
Hurt at first, a little bit  
But now I'm so over…  
I'm so over it_

He stopped short when he got to the door, though. Dave was already there, and was being hugged and gushed over extravagantly by everyone in the club. He took in the pleased flush on Dave's cheeks as Rachel kissed him, and as Sam punched him lightly in his good arm. Even Mr. Schuester embraced him, thumping his back in that manly way straight guys seemed to specialize in. As he watched Dave soak up the affection and acceptance of the other members, he wilted, all of his defenses gone. He'd never be able to bring Dave down like he'd imagined. Screw his pride; the joyful look on Dave's face as he fist-bumped with Santana was worth every tear, and every sleepless night. He wanted Dave to be happy, he realized. More than he wanted to be happy himself. _And fuck your alternate universe theory, Dave_, he thought. _Because if that's not love, I don't know what is_. Blinking back tears, he walked into the choir room and up to Dave, waiting his turn. Dave released Brittany from a one-armed bear hug and turned, freezing when he saw Kurt. They both stared at each other for a long moment, sensing the tension of everyone in the room, who feared the drama their reunion would bring. Finn had been discreet about what he'd heard Blaine scream accusingly at Kurt last month, but word did have a way of getting around McKinley. However, Kurt just held out his arms and smiled softly at Dave, saying, "I'm so glad you're back." They hugged, just a little more than was definitively platonic, but enough so that everyone's worries were soothed.

The rest of the week passed quickly. Now that the ice had been broken, Kurt and Dave smiled at each other in the hallways, and spoke casually during glee. On the surface, it seemed like they were back to the status of their relationship prior to the crash, though a little warmer and friendlier. More familiar. But underneath, Kurt never stopped longing for Dave. Never stopped wanting to press him up against his locker and kiss those lips he missed so much. Never stopped wanting to call Dave every single night, and desperately beg his former lover to want him again. He knew Dave wasn't as unaffected as he pretended to be. He'd caught Dave looking at him in the choir room more than once, with the same soft expression he'd had on his face when he told Kurt that his kisses always made him feel better. And one time, their hands touched when Kurt passed over some sheet music, and both of them froze in place for several seconds. But regardless, Dave wanted to compartmentalize. And Kurt, loving Dave as he did, was helpless to do anything other than give him what he wanted. Even if it was breaking his own heart to pieces every day.

But the last week of school, Kurt started to think that maybe by giving Dave what he wanted, he was keeping him from having what he _needed_. Namely, himself. He'd thought a lot about why Dave wanted to put their romantic relationship in the past, going over every word he could remember Dave speaking both before and after their rescue. He thought about how Dave found infection preferable to dehydration, because the infection wouldn't put Kurt in danger. And how he'd been completely serious about Kurt leaving him behind to increase the chance of rescue; not for both of them, but just for Kurt. It was like Dave had this crazy idea that Kurt was worth more than he was. And if that were true, it followed that Dave had probably convinced himself that Kurt couldn't really want to be with him, not unless he was quite literally the only other person in existence. He knew he'd made his desire to be with Dave quite clear since they returned to Lima, but Dave probably thought Kurt was confused, or maybe unfairly influenced by how many times Dave had made him come his brains out. He doubted that Dave really, truly understood how deep and real Kurt's love for him was. And by acting as he had the past week - unconcerned, carelessly light and easygoing - he'd have certainly proved Dave's assumptions correct. Kurt full-on facepalmed. _Boys are so stupid_, he thought. _And I just might be the stupidest one of all_.

It was time to lay all of his cards out on the table, one last time. In a way that was so genuine and heartfelt, Dave would finally be able to see the truth of what Kurt had been telling him all along. It would be hard to make himself so vulnerable again, to open himself up one more time to Dave's possible rejection. But he had to do it, because Dave deserved nothing less than everything Kurt had in him.

On the last day of school, in the last glee club meeting of their junior year, Kurt raised his hand and asked if he could say a few words. Mr. Schuester nodded, and Kurt walked up to the front of the room to stand by the piano. He took off his fedora, brightly colored scarf and lime-green blazer (he blushed a little when Santana gave a wolf whistle at his mini-striptease), so he was standing just in his jeans and a plain black t-shirt. He caught Dave staring a little at his arms, and it gave him the last little boost of confidence he needed to go through with what he'd planned.

"So, tomorrow is the first day of summer break," he said, and paused for the predictable whoops and cheers. "A lot of things can change from one school year to the next. At the end of last year, Lauren wasn't even interested in glee; now she's not only one of our most valued members, but she's dating another gleek." There were laughs, and Puck placed a smacking kiss on his girlfriend's cheek. "And things were more than a little weird between Finn and me. But now when I look at him, all I see is the brother that I never knew was always missing from my life. And I know he feels the same way about me." Finn smiled and nodded, winking.

"There's a lot that will change between this year and next, too," Kurt continued, addressing the club as a whole. "Time passes. Hurts get healed, relationships sometimes fade away." He picked up his colorful scarf. "Things that were so bright and vivid become dulled and washed out by time and distance. With enough distance, we can convince ourselves that maybe the colors were never really that intense, that beautiful. But it's not true, not at all."

Kurt suddenly looked directly at Dave, locking eyes with him. "I told you I loved you last month, and in that moment you believed me with all of your heart. I know you did." Kurt heard a couple of gasps, and saw that Dave had gone pale, but he kept going. "After just a couple of days, you started convincing yourself that I didn't mean it, not for keeps. That it wasn't as real, or as true, or as beautiful as it was the moment I said it. By the time you got back to Lima, it was even more faded; not just by time and miles, but because you _worked_ at convincing yourself. Every day, the truth of what I said gets more and more diluted in your mind. By the time next year rolls around, you'll probably have persuaded yourself that I didn't even mean it at the time. You'll have made yourself forget what it even sounded like, I bet." Dave looked down, sucked in a trembling breath, then exhaled slowly. He looked back up at Kurt, his eyes sad and apologetic.

Kurt motioned for Brad to come to the piano. "So while the memory's still there, I want to sing something for you. And I want you to think about the colors, how bright they _really_ were. What my voice sounded like when I said it. How it made you feel, hearing me say it to you for the first time. How we were one, with our bodies and hearts and minds, when I told you that I loved you."

Brad began to play the intro, and Kurt took a breath before closing his eyes and starting to sing.

_Your fingertips across my skin, the palm trees swaying in the wind...images_

_You sang me Spanish lullabies, the sweetest sadness in your eyes...clever trick_

_Well I'd never want to see you unhappy, I thought you'd want the same for me_

Kurt opened his eyes, seeing nothing but Dave as he sang the chorus. He hoped Dave didn't think that he was grandstanding, or being a drama queen. It was just that Kurt was able to sing things that would break him completely, if he only tried to say them.

_Goodbye my almost lover, goodbye my hopeless dream_

_I'm trying not to think about you, can't you just let me be?_

_So long my luckless romance, my back is turned on you_

_Should've known you'd bring me heartache_

_Almost lovers always do_

By the time Kurt got to the bridge, he could see that Dave was struggling not to cry. He didn't want to cause Dave pain and anguish, but he needed to show him the hurt and sorrow his rejection had caused. He wanted Dave to understand that Kurt's grief was a direct result of how much he loved him. Only someone who really loved you could hurt so badly when that love was taken away.

_I cannot go to the ocean, I cannot try the streets at night_

_I cannot wake up in the morning, without you on my mind_

_So you're gone and I'm haunted, and I bet you are just fine_

_Did I make it that easy to walk right in and out of my life?_

Kurt saw that Dave had lost the battle with his tears. Big, fat drops of moisture dripped down his cheeks, and the emotional reaction that Kurt had been so starved for from him caused his throat to close. There was a long pause of silence; Brad stopped playing, and Kurt could hear sniffling, as his friends shared the poignant, gloriously painful moment with Kurt and Dave. Kurt didn't cry, but the tears were clear in his voice as he barely managed to sing the chorus one last time.

_Goodbye my almost lover, goodbye my hopeless dream_

_I'm trying not to think about you, can't you just let me be?_

_So long my luckless romance, my back is turned on you_

_Should've known you'd bring me heartache_

_Almost lovers always do_

The room was completely silent as the last note from Brad's piano faded. Kurt allowed his tears to finally come, flooding his eyes and spilling over on to his own cheeks. As he continued to hold Dave's teary gaze, bigger boy's face crumpled completely. There was a loud screeching as Dave dragged himself out of his chair and started moving quickly down the riser steps. Kurt closed his eyes. It hadn't worked. Dave was running away from him. Running away, and taking all of Kurt's hopes and dreams for their future with him. The ache started in his chest, and this time he didn't know if he'd be able to survive the lo- _Ooof!_

Kurt's despondent thoughts were complexly cut off by the feel of two hundred and twenty pounds of what smelled, and most importantly _felt _like Dave Karofsky crashing into him. He felt the familiar strength of Dave's arm band around him, and squeeze until he had trouble catching his breath. Opening his eyes and looking up, Kurt saw him. Not the angry, confused and closeted Dave who had turned his pain outward onto others. Not the polite, distant Dave who found it hard to hold Kurt's gaze for more than a few seconds at a time. Not the affable, friendly but clearly guarded Dave of the last two weeks. They were all part of what made up Dave, but the boy he was looking at was his favorite Dave of all. This was Dave as he had been in the woods, with nothing to hide behind and no wish to do so. This was the Dave who shared his body, his thoughts and his feelings with Kurt. And as their lips met, he knew that this was the _real_ Dave Karofsky.

Because this was the Dave that Kurt loved with all of his heart, and the one who loved Kurt completely in return.

_**OMG HAPPY ENDING CAN YOU BELIEVE IT AFTER ALL THAT? Come on, did you ever doubt me? XD**_

_**I hope you all enjoyed the conclusion to this tale. I hate to use the word epic to describe my own stuff, but daaaaaaaamn, its feels pretty freaking epic to have finally brought the adventure full circle. Thanks again to all of you for making every moment of effort completely and totally worth it. **_

_**BTW, "Almost Lover" is by A Fine Frenzy, and when it popped up on Pandora, I knew I had to incorporate it into the story.**_


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